Fear
by Lady Kino
Summary: Unlike those war heroes we hear so much about, I can tell you my name.  I can tell you name and my address and my e-mail and not fear that someone will come to kill me.  Because for a year and a half, I was a Controller.  Complete!
1. Chapter 1

Fear

Chapter One

Disclaimer: I don't own Animorphs. Period. So don't sue.

Feelings are exactly that. Feelings. You have to feel them. Love, sorrow, fear. If you don't have control of your body, it's impossible to feel them.

My name is Constance Marie Browning. Unlike those war-heroes we always hear about, I can tell you my name. I can tell you every thing about me. During the war I lived in San Francisco, California. I went to Lee High School and was just a year from graduation when the war ended. I could tell you my address, my e-mail, and my social security number if I wanted and not fear that someone would kill me. Stalk me maybe, but not kill me. Because for a year and a half, I was a Controller.

No, not me. I wasn't a controller. I was controlled. His name was Arnashik 6324. I called him Arnie. Mostly because it pissed him off. He was funny, a bit cynical, and strangely kind. He was quick and intelligent and naïve all at the same time. I probably would have gone out with him if he'd been human. But he wasn't. And I hated him.

When I was 16 my friend introduced me to The Sharing. I must have seemed like the perfect candidate for a voluntary host. The awkward outsider who always wanted to be popular and loved. To be part of a bigger group. But then they discovered I wouldn't sell my freedom, even for the thing I wanted most.

My first contact with the Sharing was a bonfire at the Beach. It was fun. And I met Brian. He smiled at me. So I went the next week to the regular meeting and he talked to me. So I went the week after that and I talked to him. By the time we were having real conversations, I was so far into The Sharing I didn't want to leave.

When they started recruiting for 'special members' I was reluctant. The full time people had more responsibilities than other people and I was, at best, a very lazy person. But Brian eventually convinced me to go. At the meeting, our section's president explained about the Yeerks with a good bit of sugar-coating. Several people consented, including Brian, but the rest of us didn't and we were told that was okay and that we could leave. That should have been the first sign of trouble, but we wanted out of the room so badly that all six of us just bolted for the door. What took place out side the meeting the room was beyond description. Suffice it to say that five people were made Controllers and one die a free man.

------------

"Good morning, Mom."

"Morning Connie." Mom bustled about the kitchen trying to make breakfast and get ready at the same time. "Get all your homework done last night?"

"Yeah, but I doubt it's all right. That history packet was brutal."

"Well, it wouldn't have been if you hadn't put it off till the last minuet."

Arnie gave my Mom a silly, innocent little grin, just like I used to do every time she teased me. Arnie did. I didn't do a thing. I didn't whine or yell or even make random death threats.

_You're far too calm,_ Arnie informed me as we waited for Mom to finish breakfast.

_Do I make you nervous?_

_ No. Just observing._

_ So am I._

Arnie scoffed at me, but left me alone. He didn't seem to know what to do with me. His first two hosts whined and cried for days, then descended into madness. He didn't want me to know, but I'd seen it the first time he Controlled me and I liked to remind him of it as often as possible. That pissed him off too.

_You do not 'piss me off.' In fact, you have no control over me whatsoever._

_ Wanna bet?_

Again, he could think of no reply, so he went on reading the newspaper.

_Go to the funnies. I want to read _Rose is Rose.__

_ And I want to read the front page._

_ Kinda hard to do when I'm bugging you._

_ Yes, it is._

_ So go to the funnies and then you can read the front page._

_ No._

_ Funnies._

_ No._

_ Fuuunniiiess!_

_ No._

_ Funnies._

_ No._

_ Breakfast._

_ Huh?_

"Connie!"

"What Mom?"

"I said do you want milk or orange juice to drink?"

"Oh, uh, milk's fine."

"You getting interested in current events finally?"

"No. Just wanted to read the funnies."

Arnie turned to the comics page and I tried very hard not to laugh at him.

Mom put down a bowl of oatmeal in front of us and Arnie shoved the paper over to one side. I started another argument.

_Put honey in it._

_ I don't like honey._

_ I do._

_ Well I don't care what you like._

_ Okay. Put nothing in it. Make Mom suspicious._

He added honey.

_I know what you're trying to do, human._

_ Of course you do. I'm trying to make you angry enough or distracted enough to slip up and give yourself away. But since that won't happen I'm going to try and make you mad anyway because I hate you and I'm bored._

_ I know._

_ And I know you know. Isn't funny how well we know each other?_

_ Shut up._

_ And that's the only thing you can't make me do._

Arnie ate with my usual insane speed and dumped the dishes in the sink.

"Bye Mom," he called and bolted out the door.

"Connie, wait!"

"What?" He stopped on the porch and looked back at Mom, who was standing in the doorway.

"Make sure you're home for dinner tonight. You're father and I need to talk to you and Samantha."

"But Mom, I've got a Sharing meeting!"

"Well, you're going to have to miss it."

"Mo-om!"

"No buts, Connie. You're going to be home for tonight and that's it. Now go to school."

------------

We walked sullenly down the hallway at school, occasionally bumping into random people. Arnie hated to miss his Sharing meeting.

_What do they want to tell us?_ he asked.

_Hell if I know. Why'd you even bother asking?_

_ Maybe I'm just trying to be polite._

_ Bull._

My friend Jenni came up behind us and gave a quick hug.

"Hey Connie!"

"Hi Jenni. What's up?"

"Nothing much. You do the history packet last night?"

Arnie sighed dramatically. "It took forever! I was up to, like, three in the morning!"

Actually, Arnie had the whole thing done four days ago and it only took him about an hour. A rather uncharacteristic thing for me to do. Poor thing had to work at my 'sub-standard' level and lie about when things got done. I almost felt sorry for him. And by 'almost' I mean 'not at all.'

"So what are you doing tonight?" Jenni asked.

"_Well_, I _was_ going to a Sharing meeting, but Mom's insisting that I eat at home tonight."

"Why?"

"Hell if I know."

_You took my line!_ I scoffed in mock indignation.

_Yeah. That's my job._

"That's weird," Jenni continued, unaware of the side-conversation. "Your Mom's usually pretty cool about your Sharing stuff."

"Yeah. So when are you going to come to a meeting?"

"Oh, don't even start, Connie."

_You'll never get her. She's too busy._

_ You don't have to sound so smug about that._

_ Yes I do. That's my job._

"Hey, Connie, you okay?" Jenni waved a hand in front of my face. "You're spacing out on me, girl."

"Hm. Oh, sorry. I'm doing that a lot lately."

"Maybe you should back off with the Sharing thing a bit. Are you sleeping enough?"

Arnie sighed. I was beginning to wonder why I sighed so much. "I'm fine, _mother_. Come one, we're gonna be late for class."

------------

_Look it up._

_ I will not look it up._

_ Come on. Look it up. I don't think your right._

_ It's right. Now leave me alone._

_ No, it's not. You're going to ruin my grade in this class._

_ It's just English._

_ It's not **just** English! It's my best subject! And you **can't** ruin my perfect grade here! Look up that answer and make sure it's right._

_ It's right, okay! Leave me alone._

_ No. Look it up._

_ How you ever got an A in this class is beyond me._

_ Because I look up my answers. Now look it up._

_ No._

"Miss Browning, is there a problem?"

"Um, no Mrs. Waters."

"Good. Then would you please answer the question?"

_I also don't try to do homework in the middle of class._

_ Shut up._

Arnie hid the homework packet he'd been working on and glanced around in confusion. "Um, could you repeat the question?"

"Are you feeling well Miss Browning?"

"Yes. I'm fine. Just got a lot on my mind."

Mrs. Waters repeated the question and Arnie asked me for the answer, which I gave him. Mrs. Waters then moved on to the next poor soul.

_Why do you do that? _I asked once she was relatively gone.

_ I thought that was your whole goal here, to get me distracted._

_ No, I mean, why do you always ask me for answers instead of just take them. Cause you could._

_ I know I'm completely capable of doing that._

I waited a few moments.

_You didn't answer my question._

_ No, I didn't._

I gave him the mental equivalent of a middle finger and let the subject drop.

------------

"Mom! I'm home!"

Mom walked into the living room and glared at us as Arnie took off our shoes. "Connie, where have you been? It's almost 5 o'clock."

"I stayed late at school."

Actually he'd gone to make excuses to his boss. Talking to them was one of the few times I didn't bug Arnie. Pissing off his boss meant losing my head, which wouldn't help me much.

Mom continued to glare at us, obviously not satisfied with this answer.

"What? You just said be home for dinner."

"Oh for heavens sake. Leave the girl alone," Dad called from the kitchen. "She's old enough to take care of herself."

"She's not-" Mom cut off her argument mid-sentence and stormed away.

_She does that a lot,_ Arnie observed.

_She didn't used to._ And then, I suddenly had a horrible thought. I tried to hide it from Arnie, but that was like trying to shovel sand with a sieve.

_What?_

_ Nothing. Leave me alone._

Arnie looked and found out anyways.

_They wouldn't. Would they?_

_ Shut up._

Arnie more or less left me alone as everyone sat down to dinner and I tried my best not to think of anything.

When one dreads something, there's a curious sensation somewhere near the stomach. A twisty, turny, fluttery feeling, like something's trying to get out. Palms sweat and heart rate increases. And somehow, the whole hormonal process drives away all ability to think. However, when one is not in control of one's own body, one can't fell these things and it's incredibly easy to think. Clear-headed and rational even.

So the not thinking bit took quite a bit of effort, actually.

Even Samantha, my five-year-old sister, knew something was wrong. She was quiet throughout dinner and hardly touched her food.

Afterward, Arnie tried to take our dishes to the kitchen when Mom stopped him.

"No, Connie, just leave them for now."

"Why?"

Mom sighed. "Let's...let's go to the living room."

Samantha grabbed my hand as we walked and Arnie set her in my lap after reaching the couch. Mom and Dad sat stiffly in arm chairs on opposite sides of the room. They both looked uneasy.

_I think you might be right,_ Arnie told me.

_Don't say that._

Arnie hugged Samantha a bit tighter. He didn't have to. It didn't do him any good. But I felt better, knowing that my body held and comforted my little sister and feeling her warmth on my lap. Or rather, I didn't _feel_ better, since I didn't _feel_ at all, but it was comforting none the less.

"Your father and I have something to tell you," Mom began, looking nervously at the floor.

"I'm moving out on Wednesday."

Mom glared at Dad and he threw up his hands.

"What? There's no point in beating around the bush about it."

"So you're getting a divorce?" Arnie asked.

"Well, not yet, but it looks like that, yes."

_You were right._

_ Shut up._

I didn't want Arnie talking to me. I didn't want to talk to Arnie. I wanted to stop and think by myself and try to work out what exactly was going on. My mind knew what was going on. My mind knew that if they got divorced, my life would change. That I'd have many sad days and sleepless nights. That Samantha... it would be hardest on Samantha. My mind knew all this because my mind was the only thing I had. But I didn't feel...afraid. I was mostly 

"Connie, are you okay?"

_What do I do?_  
Arnie was asking me, his host, what to do.

"Connie?"

Samantha started crying. She didn't know what was going on, but she picked up on the tension in the room.

_Dishes,_ I told him finally.

_What?_

_ Dishes. Go do the dishes. I need to get out of here._

"I'm going to go do the dishes," Arnie said suddenly. He stood and picked up Samantha and carried her into the kitchen.

_What's going on?_ Arnie asked.__

_ What do you mean 'what's going on?' My parents are getting divorced!_

_ Calm down._

_ How can I calm down if I'm not even riled up? It's rather had to be angry when I can't even **feel** mad._

_ You are mad. You sound mad._

_ I don't feel mad._

_ And that makes you madder._

_ Shut up. Go do the dishes._

Arnie did the dishes, fended off my parents, and comforted my little sister. I didn't say much. I didn't think much. Normally shock would have done that, but instead I simply had too much on my mind to think of anything at all. Arnie was in shock, through my body. He kept his thoughts hidden from me. I wondered why he would be so shaken up about my parents divorce. It would affect him, sure, but that still didn't explain his reaction. I couldn't think about it. I couldn't think about anything. So I just sat quietly in a small corner of my mind and let Arnie take over.

My parents avoided us for most of the evening. Arnie got Samantha ready for bed and tucked her in. Mom tried to talk to us, but I was still unresponsive, so Arnie turned her away. Later we heard sounds of my parents fighting briefly, then the house went quiet. And throughout it all, I said nothing.

_What's wrong with you?_ Arnie asked, sounding angry.

I couldn't think. _Leave me alone._ I didn't want to think.

Arnie did my homework, got ready for bed, and turned out all the lights.

_Are you sure you won't talk about it?_

_ I don't want to talk. And especially not to you._

And then, the strangest thing happened. I slowly started to regain control of my body. The sensation was...indescribable. Not at all like when Arnie went to feed, which hurt. It was...tingly. Like a foot that went to sleep.

_What are you doing?_

_ If you scream or run or even leave the room, I'm taking over again._

_Arnie__! What are you doing!_

He didn't answer. I'm not sure he even heard me.

So I sat on my bed and I thought. My parents were getting divorced. Dad would leave and I wouldn't have him around to make jokes with or to play soccer with or to do homework with. He'd be gone. Samantha would cry. Mom would too. And I felt...sad. Like a hole had opened up somewhere inside me and I was teetering on the brink, half wanting to fall in and half wanting to stay up. My throat constricted painfully and my eyes filled with tears. I grabbed a pillow, buried my face, and screamed as loud as I could. Arnie didn't do anything. So I threw the pillow against the opposite wall, grabbed another pillow and sobbed into it.

I didn't want them to divorce. I shouldn't have been so worried about it. I had an alien living in my head. That surely trumped a divorce any day of the week. But with such a crisis to deal with, I didn't want to have to deal with anything else. My sense of normalcy was being destroyed. My family. My life. I'd lost my freedom, now everything I missed was being taken away.

Not everything, some rational part of my brain told me. But I didn't want to listen to that part. I cried and sobbed until I couldn't any more and I thought surely someone had heard me and Arnie didn't stop me.

Arnie. He was nervous. He'd have to tell his boss. They wouldn't like that.

A cold block of ice filled the void and I felt nauseous. They wouldn't like that. They'd make my parents into controllers. Suddenly and forcefully. Before things got so far that they'd have to deal with a divorce. No wonder Arnie hid his thoughts from me.

Bastard. I hated him. I hated him for Controlling me. I hated him for being nice to me. I hated him and everything about him. The bastard gave me some small measure of respect and freedom and I hated him all the more for it. If he hadn't, if he'd been as cruel as the others were, if he'd just acted like a parasite should, I could understand. And it would all make sense. But he didn't. And I hated him.

I fell asleep crying and hating. In the morning, Arnie was in control again. We never talked about that night, but we both knew.


	2. Chapter 2

Fear

Chapter Two

Disclaimer: I don't own Animorphs. Period. So don't sue.

I dreaded Wednesday. Real dread. There's a certain amount of dread that I could know. I didn't _feel_ afraid, but I _knew_ fear. I knew what would happen and I knew every fiber of me that was still me didn't want it to happen.

On Monday my parents broke the news. On Tuesday, Arnie skipped school to tell his boss. He got a doctor's note to get back to school. Tuesday night, my parents were taken.

I didn't talk to Arnie all day. I didn't distract him. I didn't threaten him. I didn't even tell him I hated him. I didn't have to. He knew.

_What's wrong with you?_ he finally asked me as we walked up to the house.

_When this is over, I swear, I'll kill you._

He didn't reply.

"Mom! I'm home!"

"Hi, Connie." Mom came into the living room carrying a box. She and Dad had put aside their argument long enough to pack together. "Would you get dinner ready, please? I got one of those stir-fry things you love so much."

"Sure. I just need to make a phone call first."

In the kitchen, Arnie dumped my bag on the kitchen table and went strait for the phone. He dialed the number for the Sharing office.

"Hello?" asked and friendly voice.

"Arnashik 6324 for sub-Visser 73."

"Hold," the voice said, suddenly cool and professional.

A few moments later another voice spoke. "Arnashik 6324? Is everything ready?"

"Yes. Everyone's in the house. I'll be able to keep them here for about an hour."

"Well be there in 20 minutes."

Arnie didn't answer. He just hung up the phone and moved on to the sink where a frozen bag of pre-prepared dinner sat defrosting.

_I don't know how you humans can stand to eat these._

I remained carefully silent. I was too angry to even inadvertently think of something.

_Why can't you just cook? You have so many fresh choices but instead you go for the freeze dried stuff._

_Just get on with it._

He got out a pan and started to make dinner.

_It wasn't my decision to do this._

I didn't even bother to flick him off on that one.

_I didn't-_

_Just get on with it._

Arnie didn't try to talk to me again after that. We tried to avoid each other, a hard thing to do when you share one head.

Dinner was still cooking when the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it!" Arnie yelled and ran for the door.

_STOVE!_

Arnie changed direction mid-step and turned off the stove. When he got to the living room door, Dad was already at the front door facing a tall, slightly balding man.

"May I come in, sir?"

Dad looked behind him and saw six more people waiting on the front walkway. Two were holding a strange, covered pool between them. "Who are you?"

Baldie looked around the street outside quickly before barreling into the room.

"Hey! Get out of my house!"

A large man grabbed Dad as the rest of the Controllers filed into the room. He was twice the size of Dad and held him easily while the two with the pool set it up in the middle of the living room.

"Jeff? What's going on?"

Mom came into the room with Samantha, drawn by Dad's yells.

Arnie closed our eyes and turned back to the kitchen.

_No,_ I told him.

_You don't want to see this._

_Neither do you. Go back. Watch it._

Arnie sighed. Not the way I usually sighed, but something that seemed like the kind of thing he'd do. Something sad and tired.

Back in the living room, two men held my Mom down and a woman held Samantha. Mom twisted and turned and tried to get free, but the two men managed to keep her contained. The woman was having more trouble with Samantha, who was biting her hand and kicking and screaming.

And Dad. I turned my eyes toward Dad. The same large man who held him before now held his arms behind him and kept him on his knees while another held his head still near the grey, sludgy surface of the uncovered pool. He suddenly went still and quiet. The two Controllers let him up as he tried to stand, then moved out of the way as he fell back on the couch.

He lay there quietly and I turned my eyes to Baldie, who motioned for Samantha to be brought forward.

Mom bit her captor's hand and screamed. "Leave her alone!"

One of the men hit her across the head and she slumped forward quietly.

Samantha was dragged kicking and screaming to the pool and held near the edge. She fought and twisted and screamed and it took three people to hold her still long enough for the Yeerk to take Control.

When they dragged Mom forward she was still too groggy from being knocked out to put up much of a fight. She moaned quietly and grabbed the edge of the pool, but didn't fight.

When it was finally over and my family stood about getting used to walking again, I closed my eyes.

_Go back to the kitchen,_ I pleaded quietly.

Arnie left and went back to dinner. Despite the horror that had just taken place in the living room, our bodies still needed to eat. I was quiet, almost sad, as he cooked, until I realized something.

_I had my eyes._

_What?_

_You let me control my eyes._

_You're the one who wanted to watch._

I didn't answer.

_Well,_ Arnie prompted, as if he expected me to say something.

_What, do you want me to thank you or something? You bastard. I hate you._

Something about Arnie felt sadder. Something about the way his mind _felt_ to mine was colder and sadder.

_Well at least you're sounding like a host now._

_You're burning the dinner._

Arnie saved the food, put it in a serving bowl, turned off the stove, and went to the living room to talk to his colleagues there.

That night, Arnie gave me another night to myself. I didn't cry. I was beyond crying. I held a pillow against me, curled up on my bed, and _felt._ I felt...depressed. Horrified. Beyond anything I'd felt before. I wasn't hovering on the edge of the hole. I was falling into it. Falling with no end in sight. I felt and I got drunk on the feelings, trying to hold onto them. To save them against the time when I wouldn't have them. Around 2 in the morning, Arnie took over again.

_You need to sleep._

I knew he was right. And I didn't have a choice. Right before sleep fell over us I whispered quietly, _Thank you..._

------------

Life, unsurprisingly, went on. We went to school, we did homework, we ate meals. We kept going. But everything had changed. Dad canceled the lease he'd taken on an apartment, a process made easier by the Yeerks. His body stayed in the house, but it didn't matter. I hardly even recognized the place as my house. It was cold and quiet and eerily efficient.

The next morning we went downstairs and found Rantisc 5489, in my mother's body, cooking breakfast.

"Hello," Arnie said as we sat down at the kitchen table.

Rantisc didn't answer. She just moved the pan of muffins to the oven and dumped her empty mixing bowl in the sink.

_I liked your Mom better,_ Arnie told me as he opened the newspaper.

_So did I._

After a few minutes of silence, Operis 3621 came in, complaining loudly.

"This body is too small. I can't do anything."

I was a bit shocked to hear a full sentence coming out of my little sister's mouth. I knew it was the Yeerk, but it still sounded strange.

"Do I really have to go to this idiotic Kindergarten thing?"

"Yes," Rantisc told her curtly.

"You could just tell your teacher today that you've suddenly become a super-genius and have her move you up a few grades," Arnie commented without looking up from the paper.

Operis glared at us and said something in the Yeerk language.

_And I definitely liked Samantha better._

I tried to keep my curiosity from getting the better of me, but Arnie knew without me saying anything.

_Don't ask what she said. It's physically impossible anyway._

_ Just so you know, it's too soon for jokes._

_ We're going to have to deal with this sooner or later. You can go on being the petulant host if you want to, but sooner or later you're going to get used to this and you're going to get bored and then we'll be back to arguing over every little thing and making jokes._

_ I hate you._

_ Fine. Hate me. You know I'm right._

The problem was he was right. I had spent most of my life making 'adapting to the situation' an art form. Mostly to avoid expending the effort to change anything. And eventually, as impossible as it seemed, I would get used to this too.

_Told you.___

_ You don't have to read my thoughts all the time._

_ Well it's more interesting than the paper today._

_ Like I care._

Rantisc pulled the muffins out of the oven and set them on the stove to cool. "When does your host need to leave?" she asked.

"8:00 this morning. There's nothing special going on today."

"What a horrible waste of time, this school system they have."

"I know a school full of students who couldn't agree more with you."

Rantisc glanced at us and frowned. "You've been a human too long," she announced.

_Little does she know I've always been like this._

_ No you haven't._

_ Well, maybe not as bad. I think you're a bad influence on me._

_ Well then maybe you should leave and find a more professional host._

_ That is the way promotions usually work here._

_ What?_

_ You start at the bottom, like with your sister. When you get promoted, you get a new host, one who's physically better, or in a better position._

_ So, you're gonna leave and I'll get someone else?_

_ Probably. But I'm not in anyone's favor right now, so don't count on that happening too soon._

The thought of having to put up with Yeerk who wasn't Arnie saddened me somewhat. I mean, as far as parasitic aliens go, Arnie was pretty nice.

For some reason, Arnie ignored that thought.

"Arnashik, are you feeling all right?" Camtol 4531 walked into the room frowning slightly. I'd never seen my Dad frown like that at anything but an inured player.

"Oh, I'm fine."

"Is your host giving you trouble?"

"Not at all. I've got it under control."

Rantisc set a plate of muffins on the table. "Eat. You've got fifteen minutes before you need to leave." She turned to Camtol. "And you've got five."

Camtol grabbed a muffin and the discarded paper and took a seat. Operis took two, grumbling as she did so, and left the room.

_Defiantly like your family better._

------------

On Thursday the whole family went to feed together. We used the entrance at the mall, going to a restaurant first as cover, then wandering through the mall until we reached The Gap where Arnie pretended to drag everyone in. It all seemed perfectly harmless and convincing. Three friends from school saw us and thought nothing of it.

I was the last to go down the metal pier. The two Hork-bajar who escorted me led me away and over to the cages, though they really didn't need to. I was far to smart to struggle or try to run.

"How can you be so calm?" a man asked me in a near-hysterical voice as soon as they locked the cage door behind me.

"I don't struggle because there's no point in struggling. And before you go off on some rant about fighting for your freedom, don't."

I didn't raise my voice or glare or really do anything. My voice was completely even, my face expressionless. Such calmness was the only defense against hysterical hosts. I learned that the first time I'd come here.

The man wandered away and started a fight with someone else.

In the far corner, Mom, Dad, and Samantha were huddled together, being comforted by the other hosts.

"It's their first time," a woman told me as I approached.

"I know. They're my family."

The small group parted and I sat beside Samantha, pulling her into my lap. She wrapped her arms around me and sobbed into the front of my shirt. I hugged her close, rested my chin on the top of her head and closed my eyes.

The hate was there, low and constant. A kind of turning in my stomach that progressed to fire whenever I thought about it and made my whole body get warmer and my heart to race. But the hate wasn't in control today.

The sorrow was there. A pain in my chest and an empty, hollow feeling in a place I couldn't describe. A cold, stabbing pain that made me go cold when I thought about it. But the sorrow wasn't in control today.

There was love. A deep, desperate love for my family and a need to comfort them. To talk to them. To be with them. An ache, somewhere near the pain, but much stronger. So powerful I thought my heart might burst.

So I hugged Samantha closer with one arm and reached out to grab Mom's hand with the other. She gave me a small watery smile and squeezed my hand.

"What...what are they doing," Dad asked in a shaky voice.

"Feeding."

"In...in that thing?"

"Yeah. They'll stay in for a few hours, then we'll be taken back to the pier and it'll start all over again."

Dad was quiet for a while. The silence was heartbreaking. Finally he took a deep, steadying breath.

"So, tell me about...about these Yeerks."

We talked for a while. I told my parents everything I knew about the Yeerks and what they were doing. About their customs and habits. Apparently Arnie was much more accommodating than either of my parents' Yeerks. Most of the things they asked about were things Arnie had told me in the first few days.

Somewhere in the middle of our conversation, Samantha stopped crying and turned around in my lap so she was facing the rest of the cage. She held my hand and listened to us talk, but kept mostly quiet.

"How do you deal with it?" Mom finally asked me.

Another woman came to join our little circle. She was a friend of mine from previous trips to the Yeerk pool. "You never really get used to it. You'd be psychotic if you ever got used to it."

She sat down and held out a hand to my Dad. "I'm Amanda."

Dad took her hand and shook it warmly. "So what do you do?"

"Everyone deals with it differently. Some wail and scream. Some just take it quietly. Some fight. Those don't last long. Everyone goes quiet in the end."

"Isn't there anything we can do? Any way we can fight against them?" Mom asked quietly.

"Some people fight," I told her. "They find ways to take back control and do weird things. Go crazy in a public place. Or try to kill themselves. If they don't die, the Yeerks break them. Like Amanda said, everyone goes quiet in the end."

Mom bowed her head and cried silently.

Dad gave me a slightly horrified look. "How long before they broke you?" he asked, his voice full of something that sounded like contempt.

"They didn't," I shot back, defiant. "I know better than to fight, but I know better than to roll over and die, too."

"So what do you do?"

"I watch. And I wait. He'll slip up sometime."

"And then what?"

"I won't know till it happens."

"That's the problem with this whole thing," Amanda cut in. "They're in our heads, so we can't really plan anything. We just...support each other. And we wait."

No one said anything. Dad moved closer to Mom and put one arm around her while she cried.

Amanda turned to me and tried to start up a new conversation.

"So how's Arnashik?"

"He's feeling guilty about all this. Can you believe that? Guilty!"

"He? I thought Yeerks we're genderless?" Mom asked.

"They are. If they use a pronoun, it's usually just whatever their host is at the time."

"But Connie here likes to call Arnashik a 'he.'" Amanda looked like she wanted to smile. "And she calls him 'Arnie.'"

"Arnie?" Dad looked scared.

"Makes him mad."

I smiled. Amanda ginned. Dad laughed. The laughter was infectious. Even Mom laughed a bit through her tears. There's only so much sadness a person can take and we'd reached our limit. The laughter was a bit strained, but it was still there. It was good. And it was just what we needed.

Someone screamed. They were being dragged out of the cage kicking and screaming. Samantha whimpered in my lap.

"I don't want to go back," she whispered. "Operis is mean to me."

I hugged her close. "I know dear."

"Anyway, tell us about Arnashik," Amanda interrupted, waving a hand in front of my face to get my attention.

"Yes, dear, tell us about 'Arnie.'"

I glared at Dad. "What?"

Everyone laughed again. We talked and laughed and it was strained and grim, but it was all we had. Eventually, we were taken away. Amanda went first. We didn't say goodbye; it happened too fast. Samantha went next. She was snatched out of my lap and carried off screaming.

"I'll see you again soon," I whispered to my parents as I saw the keepers coming back. "They have to feed every three days."

Mom hugged me and I was taken away.

_How's your family?_ Arnie asked when he was back.

_They're...dealing with it. They'll get by. For now. They're fighters. Especially Samantha._

_ You're lucky,_ he told me. _You've got a great family._


	3. Chapter 3

Fear

Chapter Three

Disclaimer: I don't own Animorphs. Period. So don't sue.

_ You're going to burn it._

_ No I'm not._

_ Yes you are. Look it's burning._

_ Onions have a tendency to turn brown when you cook them. They're not burning._

_ I hate onions._

_ I know._

_ You're so mean to me._

Arnie laughed as he stirred the onions he was 'sautéing.'

_If they really do burn, we don't have to eat them, right?_

Arnie laughed again.

"What's funny?" Camtol asked as he came into the room.

"Nothing," Arnie replied. "Just something my host said."

Camtol shook his head, looking at us like Arnie was crazy.

_That guy's creepy. He's, like, the exact opposite of my Dad._

Arnie frowned and tipped the chicken into the fry pan.

"Are you _cooking_ again?" Operis stormed into the room and threw herself into a chair. Operis never did anything by halves. She also never did anything pleasantly.

"Yes, I'm _cooking. Again."_

"I don't know why you bother with such a _human_ pastime."

"And I don't know why you insist on complaining so much. If you don't like my cooking, go stuff you face with junk food."

_Maybe she doesn't like onions, either?_

_Oh shut up._

The phone rang. Camtol was closest to it, so he answered. "It's for you," he said, holding out the phone to us.

Arnie stirred the dinner a bit and took the phone, holding it between ear and shoulder. "Hello?"

"Arnashik 6324?"

"Yes?"

"We need you to come to the main office tonight."

"Does it matter when?"

"No, just as long as you come tonight."

"I'll be there in about an hour."

The other person hung up the phone and Arnie handed the handset back to Camtol.

"What was that all about?" he asked, hanging up the phone on the wall.

"Nothing. They just want me to come to the office. Didn't say why."

Nobody else mentioned the phone call through dinner. Despite her constant whining, Operis ate two servings of Arnie's stir fry and Arnie himself took perverse pleasure in eating what I'm sure was far too many onions.

------------

"Hello? I got a call to come here this evening." Arnie smiled at the young woman sitting behind the desk.

_Don't do that! You're a FEMALE! I'm not gay!_

Arnie stopped smiling, but I could feel him laughing at me.

"Name please."

"Constance Browning."

The woman looked through the papers on her desk and finally found the paper she was looking for.

"Ah, yes. Arnashik 6324 to see Sub-Visser 34 in her office, room 214. It's on the second floor."

"Thank you." Arnie took the paper she offered him and headed for the elevator.

_You really need to stop calling me a guy. I'm having gender issues._

_ Well, you act like a male._

_ But you just said I'm a FEMALE._

_ No, but I am and everything you do is what I do and people will think that...but...oh, now you're just confusing me._

Arnie smiled a bit as we rode the elevator up to the second floor, but he'd stopped laughing. Down the hall and a few doors later, Arnie let himself into a stark, professionally decorated office.

A middle-aged woman looked up from behind the desk. "Arnashik 6324?"

"Yes?"

"Have a seat." She gestured to one of the strait backed chairs sitting before her desk. "We have a job for you."

Arnie waited patiently and the woman puttered about her desk.

"You host is friends with a Jennifer Appler, correct?"

"Yes, that's correct."

"She's becoming a bit of a problem."

_HELL NO!_

"You have been trying to recruit her, haven't you?"

"Yes, but she seems rather disinterested."

_LEAVE HER ALONE YOU SLIMY, FILTHY __PEST_

"What is the problem? Perhaps it can be delayed until she breaks."

"I'm afraid not. This child and her family are active in the community. Very popular. They're petitioning to stop one of our legal operations and the movement seems to be gaining momentum. It needs to be stopped. The easiest way to do that, of course, is to cut off the driving force. And you seem to be the closest one to that family."

"I understand."

_YOU FUCKER! YOU BASTARD! I'LL KILL YOU! I SWEAR I'LL KILL YOU!_

_ Shut up, you idiot! Do you want to get us both killed? You won't help your friend by insulting me._

Arnie continued to talk to Sub-Visser 34 without showing any signs of what was going on inside. Such self-control made me admire him, almost, in my more rational moments. It was something I didn't have much of, being a rather lazy child. But at that moment, I was far from rational. My mind was in a state of panicked confusion that had nothing to do with my body or hormones. A state much like the one I had experienced when I first realized what would happen to my family. I managed to pull myself together just enough to realize that Arnie was right and kept quiet for the rest of the meeting. My mind was still full of a million different thoughts, but I stopped shouting at him.

I hated him.

I hated with a passion stronger than anything I'd ever felt before, with or without my body.

It was my one constant thought.

I hated him.

------------

_Look, I'm sorry._

I seethed.

_It's not like I have much of a choice._

I flipped him off.

_You know, it could be worse._

I somehow managed to glare menacingly at him. It's amazing what one can do with nothing more than a mind if one is mad enough.

Arnie was taking the long way home from the Sharing office, walking slowly.

_Why are you so much angrier about this than about what happened to your parents?_

_ This is different. You could have said no._

_ No, I couldn't have._

He didn't sound very convinced, and I knew exactly why.

_Bull shit, Arnie. I haven't spent all this time drowning in my own self-pity, as I'm sure you know. The whole operation isn't like that maniac Visser Three you love to bitch about behind his back. You could have turned down this whole thing and left her well enough alone. You couldn't have done it before, but this time... this time..._

I couldn't think of what to say. I was furious. Not the kind of furious I was used to. Not the kind where my stomach turned and all the blood rushed to my face and my heart beat so fast I thought it might explode. It was a whole new kind of furious. A cold kind. One that made me think that nothing I could say would ever come close to saying what I wanted to. One that had nothing to do with adrenaline or hormones but which muddled my thoughts anyway.

_Why?_

Arnie was silent for a few moments.

_Because. It's what I do._

_ You don't have to._

Anrie suddenly seemed angry. Arnie was rarely anything more than annoyed, and he had never been angry at me._ What, so I should just live the rest of my life as a blind slug in a pit of mush?_

_ If you had any decency in you, then yes, you would!_

_ Well then I don't have any._ Arnie sounded tense. Like he was holding back a rage and everything he said came out in a tight, barley controlled 'voice.'_ I was born a parasite, I'll live a parasite, and I'll die a parasite. It's not much, but it's better than being deaf, blind, dumb, and helpless. You have no idea what that's like._

_ Oh, don't I? _

_ No you don't. You can still see and hear and feel. You've never had to spend a day in your life not being able to interact with others. Not even knowing what's out there. Feeling like there's something more but never able to reach it. It's worse than any kind of prison. Even the kind you're in._

His words stopped me short. It was like getting hit in the gut. All my fire and passion simply vanished. Despite that, I pressed on. A bit more tired sounding than before, but still I continued.

_Is it? Have you ever had to watch as everything you've ever held dear gets torn away from you? Have you ever lost your very identity?_

_ ''Tis better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all.' _

_ Don't spout quotes at me._

We turned the corner to my street and Arnie picked up the pace a bit.

_This is all about that promotion thing you were talking about, isn't it?_

He didn't answer. __

_Just leave Jenni alone. You're here. You're free. I'm mildly tolerable. What else do you need?_

Again, he kept silent.

_Is the chance to move up really worth destroying more lives?_

_ Would you rather we just murder her family?_

_ Yes._

Arnie marched up the steps, into the house, and strait to bed. Neither of us said a single word the rest of the night.

------------

I didn't talk to Arnie for the rest of the week. Sounds rather foolish, considering we shared the same head and he could read my thoughts. But still, I kept as silent as I could and Arnie let me stew, intruding on my solitude only occasionally. He still hadn't mastered the art of being me.

Jenni's capture was handled neatly. Arnie used the only thing that stood a chance of dragging Jenni away from her full schedule; my love life. Arnie told her I wanted to start dating Brian, but was a bit nervous about the whole thing. And Brian had this really nice friend he was trying to set up with someone and well....

After Arnie made his sales pitch Jenni laughed, slapped us on the back, and told him it was about time and she'd love to help pull off the double date scheme. She even erased stuff in her planner and made time for it the very next night.

Friends don't get much better than that.

I sat in a corner of my mind and ignored everything.

The next evening, Jenni, Brian, Matthew, and I all went out in my car. We never reached the restaurant. Didn't have reservations anyway. The two boys dragged Jenni into the back entrance of the Sharing office and Arnie and I brought up the rear. The main pool was to far away to drag a struggling host. There was a small room right off the back entrance for just that purpose. Jenni screamed and kicked and struggled, just like every other host out there.

I was almost disappointed. She acted just like every other host. Made it easier to deal with the sight of my own hands holding my best friend's head over the surface of the Yeerk pool.

------------

_I should have fought._

My first conscious thought to Arnie came the day after Jenni led her trusting parents to their imprisonment at the Sharing headquarters.

_What?_

_Should I have fought? Tried to warn her?_ I sounded hollow and distracted, even to myself. I'd been in a bit of a funk for a few days, ever since the meeting.

_What are you saying? You know as well as I do that it wouldn't have done any good._ He paused, felt confused. _Are you okay? Because I can defiantly skip your beloved English class and go to the nurse's office._

If I'd been in my body, his comment would have made me smile. A sad smile, but a smile none the less.

_You'd better not. I'll really kill you if you mess up my English grade._

Arnie grinned. _And she's back._

"Is there something funny, Miss Browning?"

Arnie looked up at Mrs. Waters with a completely innocent smile. "Yes, but I'm afraid I can't tell you. Not really fit for a public, you know."

Mrs. Waters sent us to the principal. The principal sent us right back.

_That was a very un-me thing to do,_ I told Arnie on the way back to the class room.

_Well, as you love to remind me, I'm not really you am I?_

------------

Samantha and I went to feed together the next day. Arnie was sure to make sure he and Operis went to feed together most of the time. I didn't ask him why. I was almost afraid of the answer.

Amanda came to see me as we waited in the cages. I sat in the far back corner watching Samantha play a silly clapping game with another small child. It's a game I taught her that game a few weeks before I'd been made into a Controller. She played it with a grim look on her face. More like she was training than playing.

"Look at them," I said as Amanda sat next to me. "They're not doing that to play. They're training. Developing reflexes."

"Isn't that what playing as a child is all about?"

"Yeah, but your not supposed to know that when your doing it. Little children aren't supposed to think 'the most important thing to my survival is my ability to react so I should work on that as much as I can.'"

We watched the two children silently for a while and the reality of their game seemed grimmer the more we watched it.

"How are you holding up?" Amanda finally asked me.

I shrugged, still watching the two children. "I don't know. I just...I don't know what to do. I really never thought he'd do it, ya know?"

"Do what?"

"Sell out on Jenni like that. I really thought he might give up the chance to move up and save a bit of his humanity."

"These guys aren't human, Connie."

"Aren't they? I mean, physically, yes, your right. But I haven't met a Yeerk yet that doesn't act like some human I know. We're basically all the same. Just trying to get by." I trailed off as I watched to children. I was only marginally aware of Amanda sitting next to me. "I mean, what's humanity anyways? There's plenty of decent Yeerks out there, just they were raised thinking right and good was different from our right and good. Right?"

Amanda grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me to get my attention. "Get a hold of yourself. Listen to yourself. You're trying to rationalize for your captive. You can't let yourself start to pity them. I know. I've done it too. Being a Yeerk sucks. But that doesn't mean we just roll over and let them do whatever just because they lost the evolutionary lotto."

I didn't look at Amanda. What she was telling me was telling true, I knew it already. Just...something in me didn't really want to believe it.

When I failed my math class last year and made jokes about it all through lunch, Jenni told me I was in denial. We didn't know what denial was back then. Denial isn't simply not _wanting_ to believe something, it's not being _able_ to believe it. I sat and stared and Amanda talked and the kids played and _nothing_ got through. Nothing. Like my mind was trapped in quicksand and couldn't move, despite some vague desire to do..._something._ I just couldn't.

Samantha broke off her game and came over to me, taking my hand.

"Are you okay?" she asked. She didn't sound anything like my little sister. She sounded older. Impossibly older.

I looked at her something slid into place in my mind. This is my little sister. I'm her older sister. I have to be there for her. I have to be strong for her. I have to hold myself together and be someone she can look up to. Not someone full of hate or hopelessness.

So I pushed Arnie and Jenni and everything else aside. It didn't matter that I didn't understand it. I didn't have to. Just had to know it. Work around it. Be strong.

"Yeah." I hugged Samantha close to be and kissed the top of her head. "I'm fine."


	4. Chapter 4

Fear

Chapter Four

Disclaimer: I don't own Animorphs. Period. So don't sue.

_Stop! Stopstopstop! I give up! You hear me! I GIVE UP!_ Arnie threw my shoe on the ground, flopped down on the end of my bed, and pouted. _You do it._

And once again, I found myself in charge of my own body.

_Well, if I'd known it would be that easy to beat you..._

_ Just hurry up and get dressed._

I picked up the shoe and glanced at the window.

_You wouldn't make it halfway across the room,_ he informed me.

_Yeah, well, it was just a thought._ I turned back to closet._ Now if you had any kind of fashion sense at all we wouldn't be going through this._

I was getting dressed for a date with Brian. I hated Brian. His Yeerk too, but mostly just Brian. Arnie didn't seem to like either one of them either. But the great collective _they_ decided it would be more convenient for us to appear to be dating. And if I was going to be forced to date someone I hated, the least I could do was look good doing it.

_Would a skirt look like I'm trying to hard? It's only the 3rd date, after all._

_ I don't friggin care. Just pick something and let's go. We'll be late._

I grabbed at a long black skirt hanging in the back of my closet. I'd almost forgotten it was back there. "This is nice."

_Yes. Lovely. Look, just because you're female doesn't mean you have a right to be late. Emily will only hold the reservation so long._

_ Oh come on Arnie. How long have you known me now? I'm NEVER on time. Is this pink too pink,_ I asked, selecting a blouse. _Maybe I should try I more mature color._

_ Someone, please, shoot me now._

_ Oh shut up._ I ditched the pink and went for a loose, dark purple blouse. A few minutes later I stood in front of the mirror and made sure everything looked right.

_What do you think?_ I asked Arnie. _Am I beautiful or just cute?_

Arnie felt...uncomfortable somehow. That tense, 'oh-great-now-what-do-I-do' air people sometimes give off. If he'd been human, he'd probably be nervously looking for an escape.

_Well...how am I supposed to know what you humans think is cute?_

_ Just tell me what you think._ Oh, the sweet revenge.

_Now, that's not really fair to be asking such a loaded question._

_ What, so you think I'm ugly?_

_ I didn't... I... You're... cute. Now can we go?_

_ Cute? Just cute? I don't really like this top. Maybe the green one._

_ **NO!**_

And just like that, Arnie was in control again. He rushed around stuffing things into my purse and nearly ran down the hallway. Halfway to the front door, he stopped, turned around, and went back to my closet and changed into a green, silk blouse.

_I was just kidding._

_ I... It matches your eyes._

I couldn't think of a single thing to say.

------------

We were only five minutes late to the restaurant. Emily, a friend from school, was chatting with Brian and taking longer than needed to get his drink order.

"Hey Connie."

"Hi, Emily." Arnie gave her a hug and sat down. "Sorry I'm late."

"No less than I expected from you." She handed me a menu. "But please try to be on time next time. We're not supposed to make reservations for parties less than ten."

"I know. I'm really sorry. And thanks again."

Emily smiled, winked at both of us, and hurried away.

"Why are you late," Brian asked us. Or rather, Sewni 8324 asked.

Arnie shrugged. "I'm never on time. Kind of a trademark thing. My mother does it too."

"Whatever." Sewni looked around the busy restaurant and grinned. "For being such a disorganized host, she does seem to know a lot of people."

"Yeah, I'm a grade-A moocher."

_Now THAT's a bit below the belt._

_ It's true._

_ So._

"Arnashik, you're starting to sound really...human."

Arnie shrugged. "It happens. And please, do try to make an effort to act normal, **_Brian_**. We're in public."

"Of course."

Sewni gave a small smirk, smoothed his napkin into their lap, and pick up his menu.

_Oh, dear, I think he's trying to be cool._

_Arnie__, don't. You're taking all my lines and it's not funny._

_ Just trying to lighten up the mood._

_ Yeah, well, it's not working. I'm not in the mood to be funny right now._

_ What's your problem?_

_ My problem is that you can't act like a parasite and my friend at the same time. I'm not going to get over this one Arnie. I don't care how many times you complement my eyes._

_ Oh, so you can give me a hard time about getting ready, but I can't tease you about this... thing over here? Because, it is kind of your fault we're here right now._

_ Oh, don't blame me for this._

_ Why not? You're the one who wanted to date him before I got here._

_ Yeah, but I didn't know him. Just because I kinda liked him doesn't mean I would have dated him._

_ Doesn't matter. Still your fault._

_ Order._

_ What?_

"Yo, Connie? The menu can't be that interesting."

Arnie looked up and saw Emily standing over us, waiting to take out order.

"Oh, uh, I'll have the chicken fajitas."

Emily rolled her eyes and walked away.

"Having a bit of trouble there, Connie?"

"Oh, no, I'm fine." Arnie glanced down, but there was no menu to look at anymore.

_Looks like you'll just have to talk to the buffoon over there._

_ What's going on with you? You were fine at the house._

_ Was I?_

_ More or less._

I didn't answer. To be honest, I didn't know what was wrong with me. Ever since the thing with Jenni, I'd been on pins and needles with Arnie. Strange things made me mad at him. Well, everything made me mad at him, but odd things made me REALLY mad at him. Like the eyes comment.

Sewni was saying something about how easy his classes were.

"Can... can we talk about something else?" Arnie asked, sighing and rubbing our forehead with one hand. "I get enough of school at school."

"Talk about what? You said we couldn't talk about work. Though, the place is so busy I really doubt anyone here would notice."

Arnie shrugged. "I don't know. What's _he_ thinking about?"

Sewni pointed at their chest. "Him?" He paused a moment. "Well, not much, really. Why?"

Arnie shrugged. "It's just, usually she knows what to say when I'm hanging out with her friends and such."

"Oh. Must be nice to have such a cooperative host."

"Well, it's... isn't he a...a..."

"Yeah. But he's not really." Sewni rolled their eyes. "These people are so stupid."

_Change the subject, Arnie. This guy's going to drive me nuts._

"Seen any good movies lately?"

Sewni looked surprised. "Huh?"

"Isn't that what normal teenagers talk about?"

"Oh, yeah. Well, um, I haven't been in a while. I think the last thing I saw was Kill Bill."

"Oh, yeah, that was a good one."

"Really?"

"Yeah, what'd you think of it?"

"Oh, um, it was okay."

_Uuhg___

_ Shut up Arnie. I have no pity for you. None at all. Sorry._

Arnie did a little mental sigh thing and went back to Sewni. "So, you want to go see the new Riddick movie after dinner?"

_I hate you. You just love to torment me, don't you?_

_ Yeah._

"Doesn't that come out next week?"

"Yeah, but I got a friend who could get us into an early screening tonight at midnight if you want to go."

Sewni shifted uncomfortably in his seat and frowned. "It's a school night. We're not supposed to stay up that late."

Arnie dropped the subject, but I could tell we were both thinking the same thing. What a wuss. I couldn't tell if Brian or Sewni made that decision, but I got the feeling it didn't really matter. They were pretty much the same. Sewni just didn't have the nice sugar-coating like Brian.

_You want to go?_ Arnie asked.

_I'd rather not._

Emily brought our food and we pretty much stopped talking. A blessing, really. There was simply nothing to say to a pair of such horribly dull creatures.

------------

That night, Anrie and I curled up on the couch with a bag of BBQ flavored chips and watched _What Women Want_. Arnie'd never seen it, and we made silly little jokes about it.

Arnie thought the WonderBra should have been pink.

I thought the door woman was the greatest thing in the movie.

Arnie sympathized with the daughter hiding the bathroom. But he simply didn't get the prom.

I thought the girl was overreacting, but the dresses were really nice.

After the movie, we sat on the couch for a while, watching whatever was on TV. The news, I think.

_So how come it works for Mel Gibson, but not for me?_

_ Huh?_

_ I know everything you're thinking-_

_ Thanks a lot._

_ Okay, not everything, but sometimes I do and I still don't know what you want._

_ Women are complicated. Even WE don't know what we want most of the time._

_ Oh, joy. Makes it so easy for the rest of us._

_ Hey, you're not that easy either._

_ What's wrong with me?_

_ Well, I can't figure you out. I can't figure out why you do stuff._

_ Well, I can't figure you out either. I never know what you're going to do or say next. It's kinda strange that you can still surprise me like that._

_ It's because I'm so spontaneous,_ I thought with what amounted to a smug, silly grin.

He laughed at me.

_It's not fair,_ I told him, suddenly sad. Talk about spontaneous, my attitude did a complete 180.

_What's not fair?_

_ That I'm so set on hating you, but I really enjoy watching movies with you._

Right then, neither of us said anything, but I could tell we were both thinking the same thing. Not that I'm exactly sure what the thing was.

------------

Arnie confused me. I had to pick and chose my times when I could think about him. Usually if he was busy and I was quiet, we could manage to stay out of each other's way, despite the sharing one head thing. Arnie really didn't invade my every thought all the time. Just when he got bored.

The next time Arnie went to feed, Samantha couldn't come with us. Secretly, I was kind of glad. After they led me to the cages, I checked to make sure there was no one around who would want to bug me, then settled into a corner to think.

First came the bi-weekly ritual of 'what am I feeling now?' The physical sensations of feelings still amazed me. But what really impressed me was how they changed, without really changing. I held fear and hatred and love and despair, but they were all just various dull aches. Like old bruises that refused to go away and you can't help but poke them. But the ache around my heart had changed somehow. It felt more...desperate. And the fear. A cold block of ice took up permanent residence in my stomach. The fear was a hopeless, long-suffering fear of knowing what's coming but not being able to do a thing about it. It was there, just like always, but something new was added to it. A quivery, fluttering feeling, like I should be doing something but I had idea what. The new fear felt...silly. Funny how you can feel two different kinds of fear at the same time. Funnier that the silly fear felt stronger. Funny, but I wasn't laughing.

Anrie. I couldn't get him out of my head. Even when he got out, he wasn't. I was still thinking about him.

I hated him. I really, truly, honestly, passionately hated him. And at the same time I loved him. Not the kissy-huggy kind of love. More the best-friend kind of love. I mean, I actually liked the guy. He was funny and nice and respectful. Respect isn't something you find very often. Then again, he was a parasite. He was stealing my life, destroying everything I loved. He ruined innocent people for a chance to move up a rung on the corporate ladder. Besides that, he had no appreciation for the arts.

The last one didn't give me much cause to hate him, but it was true none the less.

I sat in my corner and my mind chased itself around in circles, but I never came to any conclusion. When they came to take me back, I was still sitting, staring blankly into space, thinking the same thing over and over again.

_Yo_ Arnie said as soon as he was back. _What's up?_

_ Nothing. No one was there._ I waited a few moments, hoping he would say something. He didn't. _Do you...do you think it's possible to like someone and hate someone at the same time._

He chuckled a bit. _I don't think I want to know what this is about._ We started up the stair to the Sharing building. _But, yeah.__ I guess it's possible. _


	5. Chapter 5

Fear

Chapter Five

Disclaimer: I don't own Animorphs. Period. So don't sue.

When I was in middle school, I saw a news report once about two Siamese sisters who were joined at the head. They were 28 at the time and had spent 28 years permanently stuck together; not able to look at each other, but always together. I remember thinking, 'What do they do if they get in a fight?' I never expected to find the answer.

It was the day before my English final. I'd badgered Arnie into going to bed early. My body was still my body; getting no sleep meant neither of us would be capable of thinking. At 2 in the morning, **2 in the morning**, the phone rang. And rang. And rang. The caller got kicked to voice mail and called back three times before Arnie finally got out of bed and answered.

"Hullo?" he asked in a 'what the hell do you want' voice. Very un-me. I would have said something rude.

"Good morning. I need to speak to Camtol 4531."

_They didn't say please_, I observed.

Arnie ignored me and went to wake up Camtol. He was just as annoyingly simple and cheerful at 2 am as he was in the day.

As I was about to fall asleep again, Camtol woke us up again and told Arnie to go to the phone.

_What do they want now?_ he grumbled as we trudged down the hall.

_I dunno. Just make it quick. I'm tired._

On the phone, Arnie was asked a bunch of questions about a group of my classmates. One of them was Jared, who I'd been close to before he started hanging out with a shady group of people. Strangely, I didn't much care. I just wanted them to shut up so I could go back to sleep. My thoughts were fuzzy and seemed stuck on vocabulary definitions.

Around 5 in the morning, Arnie put down the phone and yawned.

_Alright.__ Bed time._

_ Hardly. Didn't you listen to any of that?_

_ Not really. I was trying to fall asleep._

_ Yeah, I know. Have to go in to the office._

_ Huh? But my English final!!!!!!!_

_ Calm down. We'll get to school in time for your beloved final._

_ Promise?_

_ Shut up._

Arnie went to the office. He talked to people. He filled out papers. He answered questions. He basically helped plan the downfall of several of my classmates and the establishment of a new area of the Sharing. A help center for troubled teens and people with substance abuse problems. And through it all, the only thing I could think about was my English final. Not the hundreds of defenseless people about to be taken advantage of, my English final.

The English final I failed. Failed, because we didn't take it. We didn't make it to school on time. In fact, we were lucky to get to school at all that day. Only managed to show up to one exam: chemistry. Yea.

**_I CAN'T BELIVE YOU MADE ME FAIL MY FINAL!!!!!_**

****_Would you come off it? I'll get it fixed. You can have any grade you want._

_ **I DON'T WANT YOUR PENCIL WHIPPED GRADE, YOU CHEATING SCUM! I WANT MY ENGLISH GRADE! MY HONEST TO GOD ENGLISH GRADE THAT I'VE TOILED OVER ALL YEAR THAT **_**YOU_ RUINED!!!!!_**

Arnie sighed and flopped down on the living room couch. We'd argued all the way home from school. Well, I yelled and he tried to clam me down. Without much success.

_Shut up already. I thought you couldn't get mad._

**_ I_**- I stopped. I thought. _I'm not mad._ I sounded like I was discovering this fact, not stating it. I wasn't mad. All the little things that happen when you get mad weren't there. But I already knew that. I'd been trying to deal with the fact of it for six months. I guess, somehow, my mind managed to overcome physical barriers. _There's only so long a person can go under these conditions without...without...oh, whatever. I know I should feel mad, so I'll just act mad._

_You're just as irrational as a mad woman._

_ So?_ I was irrational. Irrational and...and angry. Infuriated really. It had nothing to do with my body or my hormones or anything physical at all. For the first time I stopped being preoccupied with my lack of physical _feeling_ and realized there was plenty of _emotion_ left to me. That the two things were completely different. That I could _know_ anger without ever _feeling_ angry. It was...strange. And very clear. My thoughts had that mad speed and chased each other around and around in my mind, but they lacked that hormonal befuddlement. Rather than focus on my feelings, all my energy focused on my thoughts, which were quickly getting violent.

_Why are you so upset over a stupid grade?_

_ Because it's the only thing I have left._

_ What the hell are you talking about?_

_ You took my life, my family, my friends, everything. The only thing I'm good at is that English class, and literature is the one thing I love that you can't take from me. But you've ruined it. You've ruined the last thing I had._ And I saw it. I saw everything clearly. I saw how my anger was at once irrational and justified. How that grade was such a stupid thing to fight over but how important stupid things can become to people. How the whole situation had screwed up my priories and made me become unreasonably attached to the most ordinary things. But who wouldn't become attached to the ordinary, when everything ordinary was being stripped away. I saw it, because I could think with all the emotion charging my thoughts and no feelings to confuse me. And for a brief moment, I saw everything with absolute clarity.

So did Arnie.

_You haven't lost it. You're still the best in the class and if you want we can change the grade to show that. Besides, it's not the only thing your good at._

He sounded so tired.

My thoughts slowed to a more reasonable level. _I told you I don't want that kind of grade._

_ What does it matter anyway? Your grades will be meaningless in a few months anyway._

_ Oh, you really know how to cheer someone up._

He told me to do something that was physically impossible.

------------

Arnie was irritable for the next few days. He snapped at people for saying hello to us and stomped about, moping. Everyone one knew he was mad at someone, but only I knew who. And I didn't really care.

I treated Arnie with something like indifference. I was angry at him, but it wasn't one of those 'makes-my-blood-boil-just-looking-at-you' kind of things. I simply couldn't forgive or forget what he'd done. I showed that by ignoring him as completely as I could. I didn't talk to him, even to argue. I didn't fight him, or joke with him, or tease him. To completely ignore him was impossible, but I came fairly close.

After two days of the silent game, we were both glad when it was time for Arnie to feed. We both looked forward to a much needed few hours apart.

In the holding cages, I didn't even bother with my bi-weekly 'ritual.' I just seethed and stewed and snapped at anyone who came near me. Amanda did her best to drag me out of my funk, but I would have anything to do with her. She wandered away, muttering something about childish, petulant people.

'I'm not childish,' I tried to assure myself.

'Yes you are.'

'Oh great. My conscience sounds like Arnie.'

When the guards came to get me I was in no mood to have to deal with Arnie again. I thought about fighting them, just for the sake of it, but decided I liked my limbs too much. The Hork-Bajar aren't supposed to kill hosts, but let's face it, sometimes they can't help it.

By the end of the pier I was a bit more resigned, but no happier. At least they didn't have to hold my head down as Arnie slithered back in to my ear.

A voice, in my head, screaming, begging to be allowed to die.

Another voice, different, howling, making no words at all, just thoughts of despair.

Standing over a slain Hork-Bajar.

Running through trees, chasing someone, slashing at anything in my way.

Standing in a dark room, facing a desk with a single lit lamp, giving a report.

A thin, almost silent wailing.

_What the fck!!!!_

I fell over, unable to stand up strait, and another human controller helped me to my feet. My head was still spinning madly from the rush of images. It was just like the first time Arnie Controlled me. But it had never happened since then. So why...

_Arnie___

_ Shut up, human._

------------

Nasha 0647 acted like I always imagined a parasite should. She ignored me, never answering any of my questions or responding to me in any way, until I finally learned to shut up. That's not to say she didn't know everything I was thinking. She was in every part of mind, all day, every day. Arnie had at least left me some small corner to brood in.

Arnie. Arnashik 6324 had been promoted to a low ranking sub-Visser somewhere in the 300's. The promotion had been sudden and surprising for both of us. His new host was a banker somewhere.

I thought about him every day. Mostly because he was so different from Nasha. He was funny, cynical, and rather blasé where as she was cold, quiet and a workaholic. Traits which she couldn't quite keep from sneaking into my life.

"Hey, Connie," Jenni called from across the school's main hall. Or rather, Lumkin 9837 called. Stupid name. Sounded like Pumpkin.

"Hi Jenni." Nasha smiled at her and shoved the history book back into my bag.

"Studying?" Pumpkin asked.

"Yeah. That civil war stuff is fascinating." Defiantly Nasha speaking there. History never was, nor will it ever be, my forte. "So are you going to the Sharing meeting tonight?"

"Oh, I'd love to, but I can't. My dad's parents are coming into town today and we're all going to dinner. Can you tell Chris I'm sorry for flaking out?"

"Sure. I doubt he'll even care. There's nothing going on today."

"Kay. Thanks." Pumpkin gave us a hug and then hurried away. She was always running here or there, in a hurry to get somewhere. Very un-like Jenni, who would stop and talk to everyone she knew in the halls. She'd have to run after that, but she always stopped to say hello.

_Do we know a Chris?_

Nasha didn't answer me.

I'd asked out of habit. Of course we didn't know a Chris. Pumpkin was just asking us to make her excuses to their boss.

Nasha was about to pull her book out again when the 5 minute bell rang for class. So instead of reading in the hall, she moved to the History classroom and pulled out her book there.

"Studying again?" asked Rachel, one of my classmates.

"Yeah, we have a quiz today, don't we? At least, I think we do. Did you read the homework schedule?"

Rachel laughed. "Yeah, there's a quiz over Ch. 12."

"Crap. I was hoping I was wrong."

"Didn't study last night?"

"What? And miss out on all the fun of my childhood?" A more me-like statement. Finally.

Rachel laughed a bit more, then abruptly stopped and sat down. She'd been having social/non-social mood swings a lot lately. I wondered if it had something to do with her boyfriend. The latest rumors were that she was dating someone from a private school. All boys. Lucky dog.

I slept all thought history class. My body was still and doing stuff, courtesy of Nasha, but I was in that sleepy, 'I don't have to think so I won't' kind of state.

After class the teacher called me up to his desk.

"Miss Browning, your grades have improved a lot lately. Keep up the good work."

"Thank you, sir."

Mr. Alan wasn't the only teacher to notice my improved grades, and only Mrs. Waters complained about it. I was still making an A in her class, but she said my writing was getting worse.

"Is there anything wrong, Miss Browning?"

"No, ma'am."

"Then why the sudden change in your writing style?"

_I love you Mrs. Waters!_

Nasha just shrugged. "Lots of stuff going on."

"Are you still dating that boy?"

At first I thought of Arnie for some reason, but she meant Brian.

Nasha latched on to this easy explanation and my hopes were squashed. "No, we broke up about a week ago."

That night, we really did beak up.

Good riddance.

------------

The first time Nasha went to feed, I acted rather normal. I complained to Amanda, joked with a few of the more downtrodden hosts, and managed to make a fool out my self in front of several people. No, I won't say how.

But by the end of the first week, I was exhausted in every way possible. Amanda found me in the far corner with my head in my hands, too tired to even feel. My very bones felt like they were trying to sink through the floor.

"Hey girl. You seem down today," Amanda said as she sank down next to me.

"Nurg."

"Wanna talk about it?"

I shook my head.

"Are you sure?"

"I can't _do_ this 'Manda." My voice sounded like it was coming from miles away, even to me. It didn't sound like _my_ voice. It sounded like Nasha.

"Can't do what?"

"This," I whispered, too tired to explain.

I was empty, on verge of collapsing in on myself. My skin was held up by nothing and threatened every moment to fold up into nothingness. But it was heavy skin. Skin that seemed to _want_ to collapse into nothingness. And I was too tired to even try to move.

Amanda scooted closer, put her arms around me, and pulled me to her. I collapsed against her and something deep in me stirred a little bit. Something that might have been sad, but it was too far away to tell.

"Tell me," she whispered.

"I just... I can't... It's like, I'm not even there. I keep yelling and screaming and no one's there to hear me. I...I... It's like I've died, but they won't let me leave."

I waited for her to say something but she didn't. She just held me against her.

"I don't know. It's just... I feel like... Well, I don't feel. Or I don't think I do. And no matter what I do, nothing happens. Amanda?"

"I'm here. I'm listening to you."

At those words I was no longer empty. Slowly, bit by bit, I came back. My fears, my sorrow, my hopelessness, everything came back and filled me until I thought I would burst.

"I just... She's a black hole! I keep pouring out my thoughts and my feelings and she just sucks them up never says a word. Never. No one says anything to ME. I'm... I'm not there. I'm not. I don't matter. I can't live like that, but I can't die either and I'd rather die than just be a... a thing."

Amanda squeezed me tighter and I knew she was listening to me. She cared for me. But I was coming back, becoming more and more human with each word and the more I spoke the more I felt and the more I felt the more I wanted to return to the emptiness. Blood was rushing through my veins, pounding through my ears, making it almost impossible for me to even hear myself. My head throbbed with pain and confusion made my vision spin. I shivered, not from any kind of cold, but from so much, so suddenly.

"And she never stops. I'm so tired but she just keeps going and going. She keeps doing stuff and I can't make her stop because I'm nothing. Nothing. She's just going to wear me out and move on to a new host and do the some thing all over again. They can't be stopped. They'll kill everyone and I just want to die."

I stopped, took a deep breath, and completely lost it. I turned my face into Amanda's chest and cried. Not loud, wailing sobs; I just cried. I held her as close as I could shook and wept and thought nothing but _felt_ everything. An utter hopelessness that threatened to consume me. Not swallow me, consume me. Tear me apart.

Amanda held me hesitantly. She didn't know what to do any more than I did. No one did. What _could_ we do? We were completely helpless in the face of such a menace.

After a while my sobs slowed, then stopped. I was exhausted, but I felt more alive than I had in days. Like I'd just run a marathon and the feeling of being alive, of having _done_ something, was beautiful. Even if the something had been pointless.

"You can't give up," Amanda finally whispered. "You have to keep fighting."

I saw the guards coming. They caught my eye and I knew it was time to go. "I don't want to fight."

She stared strait into my eyes and fixed me with an expression that was almost furious. "Fine. Then don't. I'll fight for you."

The guards were shoving past hosts who weren't fast enough to move out of their way. I just looked at Amanda, not quite sure what to say.

"I love you. Your family loves you. No matter what, we always will."

The guards walked me back to the pier. Amanda's words stayed with me as I left. They all very nice and pretty, but what good did romantic thoughts like that do me in the face of such brutal reality. They were nothing but words.


	6. Chapter 6

Fear

Chapter Six

Disclaimer: I don't own Animorphs. Period. So don't sue.

Daydreaming. It felt like daydreaming. Or, maybe, not quite daydreaming but that state halfway between daydreams and being fully awake. Where you still see and hear everything, but somehow it doesn't matter, so it never sticks with you. Everything is calm and peaceful and nothing matters.

Nasha was constantly on the go for a few months after she came to me, but I drifted away into my daydream state. I was a puppet, so completely controlled that half the time I had no idea what was going on. Nasha didn't talk to me, and I didn't talk to Nasha. I didn't talk to anyone. Because I wasn't there.

My 17th birthday came and went. No one noticed it. My family might have cared, but there was nothing they could have done for it. My friends were all hosts, or too scared of the changes in me to point it out. I got a card from my dentist, another from the insurance, and a few from grandparents. All of them went into the trash without being opened, even though I was sure the grandparent ones had money in them. More than all the rest, though, the thing that scared me most was that I didn't care. I spent my birthday curled up in a corner of my mind while my body filled out reports on a computer. And I didn't care.

As far as I could tell, I'd stopped caring about anything. My days were bleak, with no one to talk to. Even in the cages, I was alone. The few friends I'd managed to make left me alone, too depressed by their own problems to try to talk to me. I was sitting in the corner, the week after summer started, staring off into space when a small hand suddenly slipped under mine and squeezed my knee.

I squealed and jumped, brought out of my trance by a purely physical reaction. Samantha, who knew how ticklish I was, smiled weakly at me. I spent a few moments trying to focus on her face; it had been a while since I'd had to interact with someone.

"Sam?"

"Hi."

'Hi.' Such a simple phrase. But Samantha looked strait into my face and said it with such clarity and directness that my heart skipped a beat. I looked around to be sure we were still in the cages; that this was really my little sister and not some alien look-alike. We were still in the cages, and this was Samantha and no one else. But she was five. No six, now. She never said anything so directly. She hardly ever spoke in complete sentences.

"What are you doing here?"

Samantha shrugged. "What I always do here. Chikra came a day early, cause we have a field trip in school on Friday."

Chikra. Field trip. My brain worked furiously, trying to identify these things. It was like trying to run in quicksand.

"Huh?"

"Didn't you hear us tell Camtol? We're going to the zoo."

Something finally clicked into place, but it wasn't the field trip. Chikra. Chikranish, her new Yeerk. The zoo thing was completely new to me, but I wasn't about to tell her that.

"Oh, right. I just... forgot."

Samantha sat on the floor and stared at me. We hadn't run out of things to say to each other so quickly, but we settled into an uneasy silence anyways. I wanted to ask her all kinds of things. I wanted to know how she was and what she'd been doing. But I knew the answers to such thoughtless questions. They were the same for every host. Still, I wanted to hear her talk. She spoke so rarely, and it was a treat to hear her, but it scared me. She sounded so mature. Like she'd grown up over night.

She had grown up overnight. My little sister was gone. The little sister who painted my nails and taught me cat's cradle even though I was never any good at it. The little sister who let me braid her hair and never told if I yelled at her. In her place was this other girl who'd seen too much, too fast. Who would carry the scars from this into her grave. Who knew that her grave might come much sooner than anyone expected. Who I still loved. Who my heart ached for, as it hadn't in ages. I felt as if I was being pulled in six different directions at once, and the only thing I knew for sure was that I wanted to hug Samantha and weep, and that I couldn't do it.

"I haven't seen you in a while," I finally managed to say. "Are you... are you all right?"

Samantha shrugged. "I guess so. Chikra's okay, I guess. She doesn't yell at me. That's good."

That she thought not being yelled at was a good thing nearly broke my heart.

I stared at the floor and tried to figure out what to say. I had idea how long it would be until I saw her again. I wanted to say something important and meaningful, but all I think about was how much she'd changed since I'd last seen her.

A small hand snaked into my view again, but this time she didn't try to tickle me. She simply held my hand.

"What are you thinking about?"

I tried to smile for her. "Just... about how grown up you are. It's a lot different from the last time we talked."

"Oh."

I couldn't tell what she thought of that. She didn't seem proud of being called mature, like so many other small children. But then, why should she? Why would anyone be proud of going through hell and then showing the signs of it?

Tact seemed out of the question now. Who could stay polite and thoughtful in times like these? So I asked the question I wanted most to hear the answer to.

"How...um...how are you holding up?"

Her face brightened instantly and she smiled the most beautiful smile I'd seen in weeks. "I'm doing just like you said. Stay quiet and wait, but don't let them beat me." She squeezed my hand and looked at me with anxious questioning. "You are, too, right?"

She looked up to me. She'd heard what I said and looked to me for strength. I was a role model to her. My stomach sank and twisted with shame. I could feel my heart beat faster and painfully. What reason did she have to look up to me now? I'd failed. Given in. How could I possibly stand to face her now that I'd broken her trust in me? She had no reason to look up to me. I was a failure and the task was impossible.

I was about to tell her as much, but I couldn't quite get the words out. Hope stopped me. I thought I was all out of hope, but some tiny little bit remained. I didn't want to crush the beautiful smile that was already wavering in front of me.

"Connie?"

I swallowed hard, feeling like I was choking on my words. Impossible, since words aren't tangible, but something closed my throat, making it difficult to breath. I smiled weakly at her and patted her hand with my free one.

"Yeah. Yeah, me too."

It was a lie, but how could a lie that made her smile like that ever be a bad thing? I think I might have started crying, but no one really noticed.

------------

I was still a bit disorganized when Nasha rejoined me. Talking to my sister had made me think, something I didn't do often anymore. She also made me feel, which I'd started to avoid. The result was more than a bit unsettling. Like I was trying to do something, but couldn't quite muster up the strength. Maybe that's why I did it.

_Welcome back._

Nasha didn't answer me immediately, but I could feel her pause and consider me. I assumed she wouldn't answer at all and started to sink into oblivion, welcoming the blankness. It was so much easier than fighting. We walked on toward the exit.

_Why did..._ Nasha trailed off, apparently trying to find the right words. _You're different today._

Suddenly, fighting back didn't seem like such a bad idea. I may have hated Nasha, but to have someone pay attention to me, to treat me like a she instead of an it, was a wonderful thing. If I were back in the cages, it would have been a wonderful feeling, but of course Nasha prevented the usual onrush of pride and satisfaction. The feeling that made you feel ten times too big for your skin and like you can do anything. I couldn't have the feeling, but Nasha acknowledging me made me think, just maybe, I can fight back and make the fighting worth it.

_I met my sister in there. It was a rather enlightening experience._

Nasha didn't say anything to that, but she didn't need to. The one little slip was enough.

------------

Fighting back was not easy, especially after having given up once.

The first day was easy, especially after Nasha's comment. My thoughts were filled with a kind of fierce determination and mostly centered around five words. I felt like a sleepwalker might after waking up in a strange place. I had no idea what Nasha and the others talked about, but I listened, and tried to make sense of it, and even succeeded for the most part. But they were boring, talking of ordinary stuff that made the inner-workings of an invading alien organization seem rather...mundane. Nasha continued to ignore me, but went to bed early, telling the others that she had a headache.

After that, things got a bit more difficult. Nasha continued to ignore me and even stopped invading my thoughts constantly. I could think privately again, but it didn't seem to matter. I found it harder and harder to see the point in fighting. So I stopped. I slipped back into my almost-asleep state as if it were natural. Occasionally I would find the strength to wake up and pay attention for a few hours. I knew better than to talk to Nasha again, as it would only discourage me.

But Samantha. Samantha was my saving grace. Whenever Nasha turned our gaze on my little sister, everything suddenly fell into place. Nothing was difficult and fighting back was the only natural thing in the world. I had to be strong for her, so she could be proud of me and have some one to look up to. I was her strength and she was mine. It was a strange relationship, and I thought more than once that I was using her, but it worked. And as long as the arrangement worked I decided not to mess with it. Besides, it was just thoughts. I wasn't hurting anyone.

------------

One day, just after school let out, Nasha was looking up stuff on my computer while I sat in the back of my mind, happily thinking of nothing. The only time I happily did anything was when I stopped fighting, so I was more than content to let Nasha do her own thing.

And then Nasha nudged me. Didn't quite speak, but felt like she was about to and simply changed her mind. Whatever you call it, it was enough to wake me up. I quickly scanned the report on the screen before she closed it. I couldn't read it fast enough, but one word jumped out at me. _Arnashik_

_Go back,_ I told her. I hadn't caught the number, but her reaction told me that it was about Arnie.

_It's nothing. Wrong Arnashik._

I didn't stop to wonder why she was suddenly talking to me. All I cared about was finding out about Arnie.

_Go back._

She ignored me and opened a different file.

_Go back,_ I repeated, hardly aware of the note of desperation that crept into my thoughts. _Please?_

She thought about it. I could sense it on her mind. She only let her guard down that much when she was extremely tired. But I didn't wonder about that either. I was completely focused on finding out about Arnie.

Nasha continued to read the new file, but I could tell she wasn't really paying attention to it. However, I was waiting with baited breath. My mind was wide awake, ready for any slight clue I might find.

_Oh fine_, she finally sighed and went back to the previous file.

Arnie was under investigation for treasonous actions.

_Arnie__ A traitor? Why would they think that?_

She scrolled down and kept reading. Apparently, he'd been accused of giving aid and support to the enemy, and having and indecent relationship with a host.

_This is bull. Arnie wouldn't do that._

_ No, it's the standard charge when a Yeerk gets too close to his host._

I didn't stop to think about why she was talking to me. The report outraged me. _How...__ But... That's bull! That's like the North Koreans killing people for unpatriotic thoughts! How can they be so stupid?_

Nasha ignored me and moved on to another report. I paid attention for a while, but the next one was just about better ways to re-supply the Pool.

So I retreated back into my corner for a while, not paying attention, but not going catatonic again, either. Arnie? A traitor? Sure, he was nice, as far as parasitic aliens go, but he was loyal to his species. And he would no more give aid to the Andalites than I would to Nasha. Hate for the Andalites seemed to be an in-bred quality of all Yeerks. After hearing a few stories about their arrogance, I didn't really like them either.

'Indecent relationship with a host.' The phrase hit me like a lead brick. They meant me. Arnie had been almost normal with his three hosts before me, but we'd been friends almost. I even admitted to loving him, in a platonic kind of way.

My mind had trouble dealing with these facts. I was a bit confused for a while, but fortunately didn't have to deal with all the physical side effects of shock or anger. In my own body, I probably would have spent hours denying it, and even after that wouldn't have completely accepted the fact that the Yeerks could be so stupid. But it finally did sink in, and I was able to look at things more clearly than I otherwise would have.

Arnie was on trial. However stupid the charges were, they would still have to be proven. This meant that witnesses would have to be called. I would have to go and give testimony against him. Or rather, Nasha would go and give my testimony for me, since I would never say anything against Arnie.

I didn't have to ask why protecting Arnie was so important to me. And since I didn't have to ask, I didn't have to answer.

------------

Sure enough, a few days later we were called to the trial. The Yeerk trial resembled the ones I was used to. Everyone gathered in an official looking room with the 'judge' at the front, sitting behind a desk. But rather than sit in rows of seats, everyone stood in a circle with Arnie, now a gaunt looking man is his 20's, in the middle. Whenever someone wished to speak, he or she would move the middle beside Arnie, say their piece, then move back to the circle.

Nasha and I stood against the side wall with the others who were to give witness. All two of them.

There was no preamble, no opening remarks, and no reading of the charges. The sub-visser simply called up the first man and told him to speak, which he did.

The Yeerk's name was Palashin 9856 and his host was Terry Prenner, a middle aged banker who I vaguely recognized. He handled loans in the same bank where Mom had an account. Immediately after receiving his promotion, Arnie had gone to Prenner and inadvertently shown him our friendship during the initial Controlling. After a few weeks, Arnie had been promoted again, and Prenner became Palashin's host. Palashin found out about the friendship and decided to gain a bit of favor by turning Arnie in. The whole affair was quite simple and reminded me forcibly of the North Korea allusion I'd made earlier.

After telling his damning story, Palashin returned to the circle. Nasha and I calmly waited as three 'lawyers' debated Palashin's testimony, dismissing parts of it. Nasha was calm for reasons I couldn't fathom and I was calm because I had no choice. No butterflies, no sweating, and no vain hopes. Just a calm, clear view of the future. And I hated it.

Finally, Nasha was called forward.

"Have you heard, and do you understand the testimony thus far?"

"Yes."

"You have personal experience with the host in question. Are these claims true?"

"No, visser."

Shocked silence filled the room. To their credit, no one in the room gasped or argued or even looked shocked. They just very quietly tried to process what Nasha had said.

I hoped they were doing better at it than I was, because my mind had gone completely blank. All I managed was to think, _Huh_

"Explain," the sub-visser commanded.

"This host tends to refer to the defendant as 'fairly decent for a parasite,' but I have seen no indication of a friendship to the magnitude indicated. Or even of any friendship at all."

"Have you looked?"

Nasha gave him a carefully indignant look. I was still trying to make my brain work.

"I have. I explored the history of this host extensively upon first Controlling her."

The sub-visser frowned slightly, but didn't pursue the question.

"You do realize you are implying that Palashin 9856 has lied to a sub-visser?"

Nasha shrugged. "I am merely telling the truth. I have no reason to lie to you. And every reason not to."

The sub-visser nodded thoughtfully and motioned for her to move back her place.

I was still in the middle of that strange, bodiless shock as we moved out of the middle of the circle. The kind that comes from simply having a mental overload. The kind I was becoming all too familiar with.

_You... you lied to them._

_ Yes, I did._

_ Why?_

For a moment I didn't think she'd answer, but she did. _Because I like you.__ And I kinda like him, too. And I think you guys are a cute couple._

That simply wouldn't compute with me, so I didn't bother and went back to watching the trial. The Yeerks weren't completely stupid. A defendant could be proven innocent, and Arnie finally was declared free of all charges. Palashin, on the other hand, was in deep trouble. The fact that he was innocent and we were not hardly bother my sense of justice at all.

Arnie nodded to me, or rather to Nasha, before leaving the room. That was it. Just a blank faced nod and he was gone. For some reason, his lack of reaction bothered me more that Nasha's rather extreme statement.

------------

Two days later, Nasha hesitated at the end of the pier. She'd been promoted and would receive her new host at the end of the day. I was being passed along to someone new. Again.

_What are you doing?_ I asked as Nasha spent longer than usual at the pier.

_Look, I'm kinda sorry about how I treated you, but you're a sweet girl and...and well... just... Good luck. And I meant what I said at the trial._

_ Huh?_

_ Bye._

Nasha had never said so much to me at one time. Before I had a chance to try and get a better answer from her, she was gone.

Instead of going to the cages I was lead to another line, this one of hosts waiting for their Yeerks. I would get no rest this week.

But rest was what I needed most. I needed a chance to deal with the overload of feelings I was suddenly getting. My head nearly swam with thoughts. I barley noticed anything around me as I tried to make sense of everything I'd seen in the past two days, but now it was harder than ever.

Nasha liked me? Arnie, sure. That was okay. But me? That didn't really cause any feeling but confusion.

And Arnie. Arnie was free, in a sense, which made me inexplicably happy. But he was also in danger of being accused again, something which he would never be able to talk his way out of. The mere thought made me turn with worry.

But the one feeling that overpowered them all was the cold, empty pit in my stomach whenever I thought of the completely blank look Arnie had given me at the trial. Had given Nasha. Or had the nod been for me? Either way, what did it matter? He didn't even smile.

All too soon I'd reached the end of the line. The guard didn't have to kick my knees, I simply sank down and held my ear just above the surface of the pool.

I expected to feel the rush of memories the usually accompanies a primary Controlling. Instead, a very familiar presence touched my mind.

_What?_

_ Hi._ Arnie greeted me as casually as if he'd only been gone a few hours.

Total and complete shock.

_What... but how.... I... why..._

_ What? I missed you. _

_ But... They let you come back?_

Arnie gave a mental shrug._ They owed me a favor and were more than happy to get me out of the way after all the trouble I caused._

_ But... but doesn't that look suspicious?_

_ Yeah, but that's okay. I'll deal with it later. Aren't you glad I'm back?_

_ I... but... _I stopped trying to argue and let my mind go blank. And for one brief moment, nothing mattered. Nothing but the fact that he was back. _Yeah. I'm glad._

_ Good. Let's go home._

A.N. If anyone is curious about my North Korea comments, or doesn't believe them, I highly suggest you read 'Aquariums of Pyongyang.' Yes, there really are Holocaust-like concentration camps where entire families are put because one person has 'unpatriotic tendencies.'


	7. Chapter 7

Fear

Chapter Seven

Disclaimer: I don't own Animorphs. Period. So don't sue.

The beginning of my seventeenth summer was unusually hot. Perfect weather for going down to the beach and lazing about with nothing to do. Unfortunately, when one is slave to a parasitic alien, lazing on the beach is just a distant dream.

After Arnie came back, things returned to normal. And yet, they didn't. I often asked Arnie how he came back, but he kept putting me off, telling me vaguely that someone owed him a favor. Arnie had never avoided my questions before, but after his promotions and subsequent demotion he'd become much more secretive. He was quiet and cautious, not just with me but with everything he did. He also seemed to be trying to make up for lost patriotism.

Thus I found myself at the park one fine summer morning, when I should have been sleeping, participating in a Sharing-sponsored trash hunt. It was a well run affair and would have been a ton of fun, except that it wasn't. So rather than deal with the fact that I was not asleep and being forced to do stuff, I retreated into my corner as soon as we got to the park and I realized I didn't know anyone there.

_Hey Connie._ Arnie prodded me a bit, trying to get my attention.

_What? Leave me alone. I'm not bugging you._

_ I know. Why aren't you bugging me?_

_ Because I don't feel like it, okay?_

_ But you always used to bug me._

_ Yeah... well... now I don't. Leave me alone._

I watched sullenly as he accepted a trash bag and looked for a place to pick up trash. It was the first time he'd pointed out a change in me since we'd been reunited. I tended to think in terms of how he'd changed. Before Nasha, I didn't have a corner to retreat into. I simply annoyed him, whatever Arnie was doing. Or rather, I tried to annoy him.

Rather than think about it anymore, I went back to the blissful emptiness, but somehow I simply couldn't clear my thoughts. Staying quiet felt too much like giving in, but saying anything to him felt pointless and took too much effort.

_I hate you._

Arnie just chuckled at me. He chuckled a lot. _Where'd that come from?_

_ You've ruined my peace and quiet. I can't even be properly docile with you around._

_ Well good. You just weren't meant to be docile._

_ What's that supposed to mean?_

He found a twisted soda can, gingerly picked it up, and put in the bag.

_And by the way, I'm not afraid of cooties or anything. Just pick it up._

_ This is gross._

I couldn't help but be a bit cheered by that. It was such an Arnie thing to say.

_Okay, back to the docile thing. What did you mean by that?_

He picked three napkins out of a bush before answering me.

_Just that you're a very strong person. It's very admirable that you don't let things get you down._

My mind ground to a halt as it tried to process this. Me, strong? Me, the girl who was reduced to crying in the cages and hiding in her own mind after only a week of simply being ignored? Strong?

_No I'm not._

_ Yes, you are. Is that trash?_ he asked, regarding a twisted piece of very old, very moldy paper.

_It's trash. Pick it up._

_ They should give us gloves for this._

_ They did. Why don't you go get some?_

_ I don't like gloves._

_ Then don't complain._

I left him alone for a while, still trying to hide in my corner. Hide, like a scared little girl. But Arnie didn't scare me. I felt more like I was hanging out with a friend who'd recently pissed me off. After all, it wasn't really _who_ he was that I hated, just _what_ he was. Still, friendly Yeerk or not, the situation was enough to drive anyone into hiding. That would show him. I'm not strong at all, just a weak little human who can't stand up to reality.

But his words bugged me and the more I tried to forget them, the more they bothered me. I simply couldn't make it make sense. Why would he say such a thing?

_Hey Arnie?___

_ She's back. I thought you'd fallen asleep._

_ Not like I can. Why'd you say that?_

_ Say what?_

_ That I'm a strong person._

_ Because it's true._

_ But it's not. When Nasha..._

_ You've gone through a hell few people on this planet have ever imagined. You're still going through it, even though I'm trying to help as much as I can. And yet you're still strong enough to stay sane and refuse to be beaten down._

I was shocked. Arnie sounded so... mature. And I'd never heard him speak so plainly about what was going on. He usually spoke about the invasion in scientific or military terms, as if that made it somehow easier to handle. It seemed to me as though he'd come to accept reality in a way I would never be able to.

_ But... but with Nahsa... and even before that... I'm not..._

_ You went through a bit of a rough time, but even when Nasha was ignoring you, you managed to beat her. She really liked you, you know. Said you had spunk. _

_ Could have fooled me._

_ She did._

_ How do you know that, anyway?_

_ She told me. We Yeerks have ways to communicate in the pools._

_ But, then why..._

_ She's a Yeerk. It's how we're raised._

_ Oh._

'But you're not like that.' I wanted to say it. I wanted to, but I didn't. And Arnie, who never looking into my thoughts anymore, didn't hear it. He just... he sounded so sad for some reason. As if what we were talking about was something heavy that he was resigned to carry around. Not defiant. Not avoiding anything. Just sad and weary.

_Hey, do I really have to pick that up?_ he asked, going back to the Arnie I knew. The funny, naïve Arnie who hated to get dirty.

_Hey, it was your idea to come out here._

_ Oh, shut up._

"Hey, Connie."

Arnie looked up and waved at Tom, who was coming toward us. Finally, someone I knew. When I was still free I would moan to my friends about the Berenstien family. Tom was a few years too old for me. His brother was even better-looking and only a year younger than me, but everyone in school knew had a thing for Cassie Smalls. But, then, that's always the way it goes with men.

And then I remembered that this wasn't Tom.

The Yeerk parading around as my one-time crush wandered over, pretending to pick up trash. That annoyed me. Bad enough he was passing for a human; picking up trash at a trash hunt was the least he could do.

"So, they tell me you decided to go back to your old host."

Arnie glanced around quickly to be sure we were alone.

"Oh don't worry. They've got all the newbies on the other side of the park."

"You really shouldn't be so casual. Anyone could be walking by."

Tom shrugged. "So. What human would take notice of what we're saying?"

"A human who's really something else. Those guerillas are still out there somewhere."

Arnie was of course talking about the Andalite band that was causing trouble, and the barely concealed threat effectively shut Tom up. He stopped grinning and bent down to pick up a McDonald's wrapper.

"Well, then, _Connie_, should I find a more convenient time to talk to you?"

"Yes, you should," Arnie said simply and grabbed a grungy looking bottle without flinching.

Tom glared at us. "Fine. Meet me at the offices after this is all done."

"Okay. See you then." Arnie gave him an obscenely sweet smile and wandered away.

_Boy, Tom's Yeerk is an ass. Who was that anyway?_

_ Spunkter 5842. Just came down from the pool ship a week ago. Thinks he's hot stuff because he jumped over 6 people for a promotion._

I was a little surprised to hear Arnie so angry. After a moment I realized it wasn't just his voice that was angry. My own heart was beating faster and my stomach was turning as it always did when someone made me angry. But Arnie was the one mad. Why had I never noticed before that my body reacted to his feeling?

_Hey, calm down. He's just a prissy upstart. And he's got a stupid name. Someone will knock him down a notch soon enough, and then you can laugh at him._

Arnie chuckled slightly and calmed down. _Oh, I can't wait to see that. If you weren't so puny I'd go do it myself._

_ Don't you dare. Tom's cute._

_ Is being cute really so important to you?_

_ Well, I wouldn't date him or anything. I just like having pretty things to look at._ I stopped talking and my words caught up with me. _Not like I could date anyone anyways._

Anrie didn't chuckle or tease me. He was suddenly awkward as I was. Somehow, it was so easy to forget the harsher side of reality when talking to him. Easy to forget that he was master, I was slave, and my life was gone. Not over, since I was still living, just...gone. Taken away from me. The knowledge that I'd never have a chance to fall in love, to marry, to try and live the perfect life every little girl imagines, suddenly hit me like a sack of bricks. It was like my dream had died all over again and I was left with a giant hole in my life. It wasn't one that I felt, just one that I knew, and the lack of a future that I saw so clearly took the fight out of me. Exhausted me, mentally.

I didn't want to talk to Arnie anymore. I couldn't really blame him, couldn't really be mad at him, but it was still his fault. And our friendly truce was interrupted by the facts of our lives. I hid in my corner.

------------

A few hours later, when my body told my brain that it was lunch time, I came out of my funk.

_What's going on?_ I asked, automatically. We were waiting at a bus stop.

_We're going to meet Spunkter._

His voice brought back the memory of this morning, of my sudden bout of depression. I realized that it was yet another sign that I'd changed. Changed from a girl who made snide remarks when she was scared or mad to a girl who hid the corner.

_Oh, yeah. Spunky boy._ My attempt at a joke fell horrible flat without any of my usual energy behind it.

Arnie didn't comment and I didn't keep up the conversation, so we waited silently for the bus.

Seated in the back seat of a city bus a few minutes latter, I tried to think of something to say to him. But I couldn't. Arnie was my friend, in a way, and we'd gotten along for the most part before the whole promotion thing. But now... now it was like he'd grown up a bit. I'd changed, but I was still a little girl. A silly, lost, immature teenager. Arnie was... older. He'd... grown. And I felt left behind and weak.

_Arnie_

_ Yes?_

_ What... what happened to you?_

He leaned back and closed our eyes. We were talking just to each other, with nothing to distract either of us. _What do you mean?_

_ You've changed since last time. Why?_

_ So have you._

_ Yeah, but I know what happened to me. And... and don't change the subject!_

He chuckled a bit, but there was no humor behind the usually cheerful 'noise.' _Well, lots happened. I got sucked into a war._

_ You've been in this war since the start._

_ This isn't a war._

I would have been mad at him if I could have. As it was, I was still extremely offended by his calm statement. Not a war? How could he say such a thing? If this wasn't a war, what was?

_How can you say this isn't a war?_

_ Because it's not. Are you fighting?_

_ Of course I am! You said so yourself a few hours ago._

_ Yes, and in a philosophical way, you are. But not really. What we Yeerks do to out hosts isn't really a war. It's an invasion. What we're doing with the Andalites, that's a war._

I stopped trying to prepare arguments and really thought about it. And suddenly my pride and my situation and my everything meant less than nothing. He was right. The Yeerks come and take over and then... nothing. That's it. It's not a war, it's just a take-over.

_You... you met the Andalites?_

_ I was one of the lucky ones. They managed to fix my host's body. But... _

He trailed off and I felt suddenly ashamed.

_ I'm sorry Arnie. You don't have talk about it._

_ But you still want to know._

_ Of course, but you don't have to tell._

He was quiet for a long time, but he kept our eyes closed. I thought, hoped really, that he might tell me anyway. That he would tell me what was wrong and let me at least try to help him with it. I'd never been through so much as a playground fight, and being a host was bad, but being in a battle was something completely different. Something I couldn't even begin to understand.

Right before our stop, he spoke again.

_I hope you never have to see or do anything like that._

The he opened our eyes and got off the bus.

------------

Spunky was playing fooseball with one of the new kids in the main lobby when we arrived. Doing the big brother act. I wondered how much of a big brother he was to his own sibling.

Arnie caught his eye and glanced over to the main office. Spunky nodded and motioned for us to wait.

_Spunky there sure loves to goof off doesn't he? Skipped out of the trash hunt to come play games in the AC._

I felt Arnie's bad mood lift a bit.

_You really shouldn't keep using nick-names like that,_ he told me.

_Why not? If you can't deck him, at lease we can call him 'Spunky.'_

_ Or maybe you should just develop a sudden interest in weightlifting?_

_ No way. I'm too lazy._

_ Why do we have keep playing to your old personality? You're hardly what I'd call lazy anymore._

_ Okay, fine. Let's hit the gym then and let Spunky keep goofing off. He probably didn't have anything important to say anyway._

But at that moment Spunky finished his game and waved us over.

"Hey, Connie, can I talk to you for a moment?"

"Sure."

_Didn't we already establish that with all the head-nodding and pointing earlier?_ Arnie asked.

_Yup.__ Sad thing is, the real Tom is that thick, too._

Arnie laughed silently to me as walked into the office.

"So, what did you need?"

"I know you've been a bit out the loop, what with changing hosts so much recently, but the plans for The Gathering have finally been green-lighted and we want you to head them. Be a spokes-person to the school."

I kept carefully silent. The Gathering was a Sharing run support group for kids with substance abuse problems. Of course, giving kids an alien who didn't care about doing drugs was a great way to make them stop. The Gathering would be great success.

"Why me?" Arnie asked.

"Well, you were in on it from the beginning and your host is better known in those circles at school than any others we have."

_I'm not a druggie!_ I cried, indignant again.

"She's not a druggie," Arnie said, though much more calmly than me.

"Of course not. I never said she was. But Connie still knows more people than anyone else on our staff at the moment."

"What about- No, he's not in the right place." Arnie thought silently to himself, then sighed heavily. "Okay, so maybe not."

Spunky gave us a slightly worried look. "Are you trying weasel out of this?"

Arnie shook his head in a defeated kind of way. "No, I just don't like the people I'll have to work with. But I'll do it."

"Good girl," Spunky cried, slapping us on the back.

Arnie winced and frowned. "Well, is that all?"

"Yeah, yeah. Come back here, I've got some files for you."

Half an hour later we left with a manila folder and a floppy disk. Spunky saw us off with one last slap on the back.

_Boy, Spunky's really spunky, isn't he? And don't tell him, but the whole smacking thing really isn't very Tom._

_ Hn._ Arnie's mind was clearly somewhere else.

_So you're really going to do this, huh?_

_ Yes, I'm really going to do this._

_ Just so you know, I'm mad at you._

_ You don't sound mad._

_ I know. But don't worry, I am._

He didn't comment on that, but I could tell he thought it was strange. I thought it was too. The whole affair offended my sense of fair play and law of warfare. The offence sank into my deep burning hate, the anger that was a constant presence in my life, no longer something that was brought out by single actions. Yelling from shock or surprise? That was easy. Hardly took any effort at all. The long suffering hate that colored my every thought? That was easy, too. It was unavoidable. But active anger? The Yeerks can do whatever they want. I may hate it, but whatever. And to hell with them all.

------------

The Gathering left a sour taste in my thoughts. Not just The Gathering, but my reaction to it. The way I just shrugged it off as another hateful reality. I didn't get pissed or mad or even depressed about it. I hated it, but I still accepted it.

Arnie talked to Jared again. He was still friendly toward us and listened to what Arnie had to say. Jared had never been completely dragged into that way of life, so The Gathering appealed to him. It was an easy way out of the ever deepening hole he called his life. He only asked for one thing: for someone to change the name.

Arnie laughed when he said it. "Yeah, I'm not real fond of the name, either. But I didn't name it so, oh well." He shrugged, then smiled pleasantly. "If enough people come to the meeting and whine, I bet they'll change the name."

Jared smiled his tired little smile and held out his hand. "Well, you've sold me."

_I'm surprised you're not yelling and screaming at me for this,_ Arnie told me as he smiled and shook Jared's hand.

_Yeah, well, what good would that do?_

_ None at all._ I couldn't tell if Arnie was disappointed or pleased. It sounded as if he didn't know himself.

_So much for being a strong person, huh?___

_ No. You're just smart enough to know when to keep quiet._

_ I'm not quiet. I just too tired to fight with you anymore._

_ You're fighting right now._

_ Am I?_

Arnie's insistence that I was a strong person still bugged me. I felt guilty every time I though about. Not that stomach sinking kind of guilt, more of an incomprehensible desire to _do_ something. To prove him right or wrong. But I knew he couldn't be right. Couldn't be.

Arnie was quiet as we walked through the mall. We'd met Jared at the food court, an unusual haunt for him, and then wandered away after he left.

_I know you don't believe me, _he finally said as we stared at a window display,_ but you are incredibly strong._

_ I really wish you'd stop saying that._

_ Why?_

_ Because it's not true._ I didn't yell at him or curse at him or tell him to leave me alone. I wasn't mad at him. I just wished he'd shut up.

_The average Yeerk acts like Nasha, and the average host goes insane in less than a month. A lot don't, but they never say anything. They just sit quietly and ignore everything. Or they get mad and yell constantly or say hateful things._

_ Like me._

_ Not like you. You're calm. You may be quiet, but you still pay attention. You still think about what's going on and you do it with a clear mind. You've never let anything about this whole bloody invasion twist your sense of right and wrong. You overcome things easier than anyone I've ever met._

_ No I don't._

_ You think you don't because you don't always beat your problems. But you find ways around things. You adapt. You find ways to deal and drive on. Isn't that better than being one of the ones who beat their heads against a wall when they can't win?_

_ But... but..._ My mind still wouldn't accept what he was saying. I had to prove him wrong. Prove him wrong and get rid of this annoying sense of guilt._ But I gave up. With Nasha..._

_ I don't care what you did. I care that you're not like that now. And I'm even more impressed that you came back from something like that._

_ But... but I didn't. Samantha... It was her. She... Without her I couldn't have done anything._

_ So?_

_ So I'm not, okay. I'm just not._

Arnie went inside and look thought the racks. I thought maybe he'd given up, though I knew I hadn't won the argument by anyone's reckoning. He finally pulled out a dark green dress in my size. It was the same style as the one in the window.

_Another thing I like about you is how most of the time you listen when you're in an argument and admit when the other person's right. Most of the time._

I couldn't think of anything to say to that.

_Do you want to try this on?_

_ Uhh... sure._

The dress looked great on me. We bought it and when we left the store I felt significantly better about myself. Almost good enough to accept that Arnie might be right. I'd already admitted to myself, somewhere, deep in the back of my mind, that I knew Arnie was right.

Shopping really does fix everything.


	8. Chapter 8

Fear

Chapter Eight

Disclaimer: I don't own Animorphs. Period. So don't sue.

The name for The Gathering never changed. Apparently no one liked it, but no one had a better idea for it. After a few days, people stopped caring about the name. After a few weeks, they simply didn't have time for it. After all, being infested by a Yeerk takes a lot out of someone's social life.

Jared was the first to be taken. He became something of a poster-boy. A success story. He spent most of his time organizing more events and talking to new members. Arnie and I worked closely with him and together we pretty much ran the thing. Well, Arnie and Hurrin ran things. Jared and I didn't really didn't do much at all.

About a week before school started, we were summoned to The Sharing headquarters. Spunky wanted to talk to us again.

_What does he want this time?_ I asked as we stepped off the bus.

_No idea._

That was all we said until we were inside. I was a bit saddened by the fact that we hardly ever joked with each other anymore. Sometimes it was easy enough to just talk to him and forget the rest of the world. Pretend I was simply talking to a friend. But more and more often it simply took too much effort. So we didn't say anything.

In the main offices, Hurrin and Spunky waited for us. Hurrin nodded to us as we entered, but Spunky waved enthusiastically, all for show, and had us follow him into a more private room.

"What's going on?" Hurrin asked.

I liked Hurrin. He took every job put before him seriously and always worked hard. He treated Jared like a loved, if slightly annoying, pet. But that was better than some.

"It's about the beach party next Friday."

Hurrin and Arnie glanced at each other, clearly worried.

"As you know," he shot a rather disgruntled look at Arnie, "the Andalite group is still out there and every event held outside the main building has to have extra protection."

"We know this, and we've already taken the necessary precautions." Hurrin looked slightly offended at the implied insult to his work.

"Of course, of course," Spunky said, waving his hand dismissively. "But we feel that more the usual precautions need to be taken."

"What have you done?" Arnie asked, sounding angry. No, he was angry. I could feel the beginnings of fear and anger turning my stomach. The feeling, for once, coincided with my own emotions. "I thought we agreed this event was to go with no ulterior motives. It's simply a promotional ploy."

Spunky shrugged. Arnie wanted to hit him. I could feel it. That anger-fed rush of adrenaline, making my heart beat faster and the muscles of my arm seize up.

_Don't! We've got enough trouble without an assault charge!_

Arnie calmed down, but not much.

Spunky never noticed a thing. "Plans change," he told us, as if we were all too insignificant to bother explaining things to.

"Like hell they do. Why weren't we informed earlier? And what is this new 'plan?'"

Hurrin put a hand on our shoulder and gave us a look that clearly said 'shut up.'

"What precautions have been taken, and what do we need to do?" he asked Spunky.

Arnie calmed down visibly at this level headed question. Time enough to be angry later.

"Well, if Arnashik is done throwing his fit, I'll tell you."

Arnie allowed himself to glare at Spunky for a few moments, then resigned himself to listen.

"We've added more of our people to the list of those attending. They might look a bit out of place, but I trust you'll be able to smooth it over. Also, I'd like to go over the layout of the area with you. The dunes there are easy to hide in. We've got a few plans for them if those Andalite bastards try anything."

Arnie seethed silently to himself as Sparky showed them a rough drawn map, pointing out where they were to go in case of an attack. I was astounded by the stupidity of the whole thing.

Later, with far too many questions unanswered, we left with Hurrin.

"What are they trying to do?" Hurrin asked. "Those plans won't do any good. The dunes are good cover, but only from the ground. And we know these bandits can fly. It'll never work."

_You Yeerks aren't stupid,_ I told Arnie, taking an interest for once._ They're just not telling you half the plan. _

_ Well that's obvious,_ Arnie shot back with a disgusted snort.

"What?"

"Oh, just something my host said."

"You listen to your host?"

"Only when she says something interesting."

Hurrin shook is head, grinning grimly, and sank heavily into one of the lobby couches. Anrie joined him and sighed.

_Why the sudden interest_, he asked, sounding much more polite than before.

I hesitated, thinking. My thoughts didn't do much to comfort me. Something just wasn't right, and the others felt it too. I was... scared. I didn't even expect to feel the normal sensations of fear, but I knew, somehow, that something was seriously wrong. I knew just as surly that I had to do something about it. Apparently self-preservation is stronger than physical limitations.

W_e both get killed if something happens._

_ Sure seems like they think something's happening._

_ Sounds more like they want something to happen. Extra people. New game plan. It's all too obvious. They're trying to draw attention._

Arnie thought about it for a while and turned to Hurrin.

"What if this is a set up?" he asked.

"What?"

"Well, it seems a bit too obvious. What if they're trying to get this attacked?"

"Why would they do that? And besides, just changing the security wouldn't draw an attack."

"No, but it would ensure it."

Hurrin looked thoughtfully at his hands. "Why wouldn't they tell us? Why spring this on us less than a week before the event?"

"Maybe because they don't want it to leak."

Arnie and Hurrin turned around to see Ben, one of the new 'members.'

"What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I was just stopping in for a visit and couldn't help but overhear you're conversation."

_I thought you were supposed to be more careful than that!!!!_

_ Oops._ Arnie sounded only slightly sorry for the slip.

"I see you've become a full member," Hurrin said, noticing Arnie's lapse in conversation.

"Of course. I'm Operis 3621, at your service." He looked a bit smug as he turned to Arnie. "Your host may remember me."

We looked at Operis with nearly the same thing in our thoughts. It was something close to disgust. I hated her, him now, for what he'd done to Samantha. Arnie just plain hated him.

"She does. Hell, _I_ remember you."

Operis looked confused. "Nasha?"

"No. Arnashik 6324, at your service." Arnie's voice was surprisingly free of the contempt I knew he felt.

Operis' smug smile deepened. "Ah yes. You got demoted didn't you?"

"Why are you here, again?"

"I've been told to help Hurrin 9647 with this Gathering thing." He turned to Hurrin. "You are the student leader of this division, right?"

Hurrin's smile was slightly malicious. He didn't like Operis either. "I'm only half of the team. Arnashik here is also a co-leader."

"So it looks like you'll still be working under me." Arnie smiled a humorless smile and left quickly, before Operis could recover.

_That wasn't smart. You've just made him angrier._

Arnie shrugged mentally. _Like I care.__ Serves him right for being a malicious prick._

_ Yeah, if you say so._

------------

Arnie was still mad when we got home about an hour later. He didn't talk to me, but my heart was pounding. I was breathing too fast and my chest felt lighter than normal. Like I'd been running, but not quite.

The house was deserted when we got there.

_Where is everyone?_ he asked harshly.

_I don't know,_ I told him, sounding more defensive than I intended to. _Probably out to dinner. It's about that time._

Arnie flopped down on the couch and sighed heavily. I felt all the anger drain away, leaving me tired and lethargic.

_Why'd you get so angry like that?_

_ Why wouldn't I?_

_ Well, you're usually so calm. I guess it was just a bit unexpected._

Arnie shrugged. It wasn't a mental thing, he really shrugged. _Well, putting myself and several others in danger for reasons I can't even begin to guess puts me a bit over the line. I just..._ He sighed again and rested my head against the back of the couch, closing my eyes. _This whole thing doesn't feel right. And I hate putting people in danger._

I decided not to comment on that. Apparently he didn't see the humans' situation as 'dangerous.' And something else bugged me.

_Arnie___

_ Hn?_

_ Why... you... _I struggled to find the right words, but I didn't quite know what I was asking, much less how to say it. _You're doing something different than before._ I felt like an idiot for not being about to talk.

_What?_

_ Well... I noticed, after you came back, sometimes I feel it when you get mad. Like, my body reacts to it. But that didn't use to happen._

Arnie was quiet for a while, but it was a thoughtful silence.

_The call it 'drunk on being human,'_ he told me, sounding distant and professional again. _No other species we know of has a range of emotions as varied or as strong as humans. Some get a bit too attached to the feeling. I'm sorry. I didn't even realize it was happening. I'll stop._

_ Oh._ I was at once relieved and disappointed that he'd promised that. I didn't really want him invading me so completely, but feeling normal feelings had been rather intoxicating. I didn't really want to give up the feeling, and I could certainly see why Arnie didn't either. But I didn't tell him that. I kept my silence and let him think I was content with the promise.

_Well, why didn't it happen before?_

_ There are different levels to which one can Control a host,_ he told me, still in professional mode. _I could control you so completely that you'd never feel a thing, even pain, or I can control just as much as is needed to perform physical activities. I try to find a workable medium, but-_

_ Arnie?_

_ Yes._

_ Shut up before I laugh at you._

_ What?_

_ You sound like a professor._

Arnie laughed.

_A really boring professor.___

_ Oh, dear, anything but that._

------------

On Thursady, Anrie, Hurrin, and Operis went to the beach to check out the site. It was a popular spot for bonfire parties, with metal pits for fires scattered between the dunes and the water.

We did normal stuff for the event first, checking to make sure they knew where everything would go and that everything would fit. Afterward, everyone wandered into the dunes, following the crude map Spunky had drawn a few days before.

_There's got to be something out here,_ I told Arnie as we struggled along through the loose sand. _Something that would draw an attack._

I felt a twinge of fear, but Arnie stopped it. True to his word, he was trying to avoid my emotions. But I still knew he was afraid.

_What if they attack?_ he asked.

_We just have to be ready._

_ Why are you so calm? Do you know what it's like to be attacked?_ He sounded angry. But more than anger, I could tell that he was nervous and scared.

_No, I don't, but that gives me the advantage here. I don't really feel like getting attacked, but if one comes, I'd like to get out alive. If you can't deal with this calmly, we'll be left in the dark come Friday. Now, they want the Andalites drawn over here; let's find out why._

Arnie paused for a long time, trying to collect himself. _What would I do without you?_

_ Probably be dead. Now let's go._

We were still searching the dunes an hour later when Operis found us.

"Hurrin and I are done. We're leaving now. Does it really take you that long to familiarize yourself with the area?"

"No." Arnie prodded a scruffy looking bush with one foot, not looking at Operis.

"Well, what are you doing?"

"Looking for something."

"What?"

Arnie sighed and striated, looking at him. Operis was scowling with his arms crossed across his chest.

"Why do you care?"

"If you're looking for something suspicious, don't bother. They're not telling anyone anything." He ginned, but it looked rather condescending. "Or didn't you hear? They think there's a leak to the Andalites."

Arnie shrugged. "Yeah, I might have heard a rumor or something about that. Seems a bit ridiculous to me."

"Scoffing at the idea of a leak, snooping around where you're not supposed to. Highly suspicious, Arnashik, don't you think?"

"Aren't you even slightly curious as to what they've got planned?"

Operis waved his hand dismissively. "It's not for me to question my superiors. I do my job and don't get in the way. If you've got any sense at all, you'll do the same."

My heart pounded adrenaline though my body. My whole body seemed to expand. I felt as if I was too big for my skin, filled with a furious energy that desperately wanted to jump out and punch Operis.

But Arnie didn't move.

"Well, then," he growled, filling my voice with furry, "why don't you stop questioning _this_ superior and get out of my way."

We stood in a face off for a few moments, both Anrie and Operis glaring with open hate. Finally, Operis turned and marched quickly away.

Arnie kicked a bush and wandered around the dune, not really looking for anything anymore, just walking. On the other side, we nearly ran into a man wearing a loose jacket walking in the other direction.

_Act human,_ I told him quickly, noticing something odd about the man.

"Oh! I'm sorry, sir. Didn't mean to run into you there."

"Not a problem," the man answered with forced friendliness. "What are you doing out here?"

"Just walking around. Why?"

"No reason. Just be more careful. Sun's going down, and a lot of weird folk come down here."

The man shrugged and walked on.

_What was that all about? I recognized him from the office._

_ Did you also recognize the gun he had? I saw it when you almost ran him over._

_ If you saw it, then I should have seen it._

_ Then you did, you just didn't pick up on it. You've got to learn to be more observant._

_ Why bother when I've got you around?_

_ Oh, shut up._

We hid on top of a nearby dune and watched the place where we'd met the man. He was obviously guarding something.

Sure enough, a few minutes later he returned. We ducked when he glanced around, and when we peaked over the top again he was gone. A few moments later he reappeared from the side of the dune.

_Huh? Arnie, what is that?_

Arnie didn't know, so he just shushed me instead. Down below, a few more people appeared out of the dune.

We caught a few words of their conversation in between the breaking of the waves.

"...don't like...too exposed...."

"Should be....only entrance...protect..."

"If you do your job....this pool....nothing to worry..."

The four people below glanced around once again and Arnie and I ducked out of sight, sliding down the dune's opposite side a bit. Arnie rested there, leaning back against the ground.

_Please tell me you didn't just hear that,_ Arnie pleaded.

_ That's a new pool entrance, isn't it?_

_ I'd bet anything you've got that's what it is._

_ Will they try to use it at the beach party?_

_ No wonder they expect an attack._

------------

Preparations the next day went off without a hitch. The whole thing was bit more popular than we'd expected it to be, since it was advertised my word of mouth only.

People started showing up a little before sunset and continued to trickle in and out over the next couple of hours. There was food, drinks, and a bit of music. A few people brought out guitars and added their own music to the mix. But nothing else was really organized. People just did their own thing, and they seemed perfectly content to do so.

Arnie wandered around from group to group, carrying a small plate of cookies but not eating anything. Occasionally we'd see one of the awkward adults pull someone off to the side and talk to them. They'd disappear for a few minutes, then come back, and Arnie and I both knew what was happening.

_If something's going to happen, I wish it would hurry up and happen,_ Arnie told me, leaning against a table.

_Calm down and eat a cookie,_ I told him dismissively, trying to go over everything we'd seen that night, looking for anything too out of the ordinary.

Arnie had managed to stuff our mouth full of Oreos when it happened. Someone screamed in the distance, running into the group from the direction of the hidden pool entrance.

"Run! Run!" she scream, barreling strait into the middle of the group.

Close on her heals, a large grey wolf chased her, snapping at her heals, but always missing by a few inches.

For about a split second I was calm enough to appreciate the brilliance of these Andalites. The wolf was an obvious fake; I knew they were fast enough to outrun a human. But, with the national park only a few miles away, natural wolves were still spotted at the beach occasionally. It was innocent enough not to arouse suspicion, yet plenty of incentive to drive away the free humans.

And then, my split second was over and I didn't care a whit about brilliant plans. Arnie spat out the mouth full of cookie and ran along the beach, motioning and shouting to direct the innocents to safer ground. A few others followed his lead, and the 'wolf' added extra incentive, running in circles through the frightened group and snapping at anything that came too close.

Soon, only Controllers remained, trying to block off the wolf's escape. But he, or she, eluded them and ran off down the beach. Most of those still at the event site took off after him, but Arnie turned toward the dunes.

My heart was beating so fast I was sure it would burst. My whole body felt far too warm as blood and adrenaline rushed through me, filling every inch of me with a desperate energy. But different from the day before. My body twitched, anxious to run, or attack, or just do _something_. Anything. Panic flooded my brain, but I pushed it away, aware that even though both Arnie and I were frightened, we both had to remain calm.

He ran strait for the dunes and the hidden entrance. I expected no less of him.

The scene at the entrance was horrible. Whatever had been hiding it before was gone now and human Controllers streamed out of it to fight the zoo gathered there. A gorilla, a tiger, and a bear. All were causing more damage than I'd ever though possible, helped by a bird of some kind that would occasionally sweep down and rake his talons over someone's face. The injured were everywhere and the sight and sound and smell of them assaulted me, hovering in my mind, blocking out what I was seeing until the only thing I could process was blood and the screams of pain.

_Stop it!_ Arnie screamed, shaking our head.

We looked around again and I tried to focus on what had to be done. My mind was pulled in two directions, one desperate to help the animals, my one hope for freedom, and the other bent on self-preservation. My body didn't mean much to me without my freedom to go with it, but I still wasn't prepared to die for anything. I couldn't die here! I didn't want to die! They were going to kill us! Life isn't worth living like this; I knew it, but I didn't care. I couldn't die here! Not now!__

_ Get out! Let's get out of here!_ I screamed, trying to make my body move away from the scene.

_Shut up!_ Arnie yelled again, right into my mind, stunning me into silence for a few moments. I tried to gather my thoughts and calm down. To focus on what had to be _done._

_What do we do?_ I asked, painfully aware of the fear in my voice. I wanted to hear his answer, to have something to hold onto and focus on.

_Stay calm. We can't really do anything unarmed like this._

Someone from inside the entrance screamed. An Andalite had managed to sneak in and demorph, causing massive amounts of damage with his tail blade. Some of the remaining forces turned to help and the Andalites took advantage of the distraction and attacked, trying to get to their comrade inside.

Arnie didn't pause to think. He ran forward and grabbed a pistol from a fallen man who was nursing a missing hand. The blood from the weapon coated my own hands.

_What are you doing?_

_ I have to stop them. I can't let them into the pool; they'll kill everyone!_

_ How do you know that?_

Arnie didn't answer. Or rather, he did, but he didn't speak. Images slammed into my mind, leaving me reeling. Images of another world. Of trees growing in deep crevices and dead and dying Hork-bajar everywhere. He was showing me destruction of the Hork-bajar home world. Or was he remembering and the images had been passed to me by accident?

I didn't argue. These were Andalites. They hated the Yeerks as much as the Yeerks hated them. Who knows what they would do once loose in the pool?

I couldn't quite think strait as Arnie ran for the entrance and aimed for the bear. He had to stop before he could fire strait and a million images flooded my mind, showing my a million different ways I was going to die. My breath came in deep, ragged gasps as we both fought to control my panic-riddled body.

Before Arnie could fire, a huge fist swung into view, catching me in the stomach and flinging me into a nearby dune.

My mind went completely blank as we lay there, staring at the stars and trying to breath. Even once I got my breath back I couldn't move. My body ached furiously and my brain refused to start. Off in the distance I could hear the sounds of fighting still going on not far from me, but I couldn't quite grasp anything but a general, frightened, painful noise that held no meaning.

_Arnie___

_ Are you okay?_

_ No._ I felt like crying. Arnie's hold over me had lessened slightly after the blow, and I could feel an ache in my chest that had nothing to do with injuries. My whole torso felt empty, like it wanted to collapse in on itself and overwhelming desire to hide my face and cry took me.

After a moment Arnie took control again and I could feel his calmer, but grim, presence near my own mind. I calmed slightly and the pain lessened, though my gut still screamed from the punch anytime Arnie moved. He sat up anyway looking around.

The Andalites had done their job and were retreating, passing very near our resting place. The weapon was still clutched in Arnie's hand. He raised it without a second thought.

_Don't-_

I stopped myself. I didn't want him to kill them, but how could I stop him? They were the enemy. Not my enemy, but the visions of moaning, bloody bodies in my mind didn't care whose enemy these four were.

Arnie aimed, but he never fired. The Andalites got away.

------------

A few hours later we were still cleaning up from the aftermath of the attack. I was thoroughly ashamed of my reaction to my first battle. Arnie was supportive, but it didn't matter. All I could think of were those injured people laying everywhere, a few of them dead, and the smells of blood and the sounds of fear. I remembered my fear of death and every time I remembered my attempt to run away, one stranger's face was replaced by some one I loved. If they had been there, if their lives had been in danger, would I have fought to save them? Or did my own skin mean more to me than the lives and livelihood of others. Did my mere existence mean more than my own freedom?

_You can't keep beating yourself up over this,_ Arnie told me, handing his trash bag over to worker collecting them in the bed of a pick-up. _It was your first fight. You were scared. It's okay. Really._

I didn't answer him. I was a lost in my own thoughts, lost in the memory of the battle. I heard him, but his words sounded like they came from too far away. Too far to have any meaning for me.

Arnie walked along the beach, kicking the sand occasionally. We'd been told to go home, as if nothing more than a strange wolf attack had occurred, but I didn't feel like going back to a dark, quiet bedroom and I guess Arnie didn't either. We walked along in silence, until a dark figure stepped into our path, blocking our way.

It was Operis.

"I saw what you did back there," he whispered fiercely. "Letting your little friends get away like that."

He leaned in, close to our ear.

"Traitor."


	9. Chapter 9

Fear

Chapter Nine

Disclaimer: I don't own Animorphs. Period. So don't sue.

Arnie's second trial was pathetic. The whole thing was taken care of that same night in about 20 minutes. Why would they need any longer than that to convict someone already under suspicion? He was given the worst sentence possible for a Yeerk. The fate given to all traitors; death by starvation.

Yeerk executions are painful, long, and public. The condemned and his host are left in a small cage beside the pool, between the two piers. That's how, two days later, I found myself hunched over in a too small cage, weak from dehydration and bruised from the kicks of passers-by.

There is simply no way to deal with one's own death. I didn't feel fear; Arnie saw to that. But neither could I process what was going on. The Yeerks simply locked us in a tiny cage. Over and over, my mind told me what would happen. I was going to die. Arnie would die in three days, and then I would be executed as well.

I was about to die. Die. Cease living. No longer exist. _Kick the friggin bucket._ Nothing made it sound better. Nothing made it sound worse. And I couldn't comprehend it. I tried. All I could see was pain. Pain, and then nothing. A nothingness that I couldn't begin to comprehend, but which I wanted to avoid with every fiber left to me. Death. I simply couldn't wrap my head around the idea of it. So I didn't even try.

They say that your life flashes before your eyes when you're about to die. Maybe it's different for those with only a few seconds left, but for me, it was more like I became obsessed with my life. There were too many things I wanted to do with my life. Too many things I hadn't done or said. Too many things I wanted to take back. To fix. I wanted to tell Samantha how brave she was. I wanted to tell my parents how much I loved them. I wanted to talk to Jenni, to come to grips with her Controlling. To fight for her, even if fighting meant losing. I wanted to take back every mean thing I'd ever said to Arnie.

And more than anything, I wanted to go back to the battle. I wanted to go back and change the last thing I'd ever done in this life. I wanted to go out doing something brave, not running away like a coward. It shouldn't have mattered. I would die no matter what I'd done. And yet, it did matter. Huddled in a small cage, with nothing but thoughts to keep me company in Arnie's silence, I was ashamed of my life. I'd done nothing. I'd tried to run and hide like a coward. I would leave and no trace of me would remain, because I'd _done_ nothing.

The shame made me almost welcome death.

_Stop it, Connie._

Arnie had been listening to my thoughts without my realizing it.

_You said you wouldn't do that anymore._

_ I lied._ He sighed. A long, heavy sigh that didn't sound sad, just...defeated. _I'm sorry._

_ Just don't do it again,_ I grumbled sullenly. My mind felt like mush and I just wanted to go back to my blank corner like I did with Nasha, but every time I tried, blood and screams invaded my thoughts.

_Not that,_ Arnie grumbled, then he sighed again. _Well, that too. But I meant, about..._

_ About getting us killed?_

_ Yeah._

We were silent for a long time, not really thinking, just sitting silently.

_I'm not mad at you,_ I finally told him.

_How can you not be mad?_

_ Because I'm not, okay?_

_ Even though- _

_ It's not your fault._

We were both weary. I could hear it in our voices and feel it in our words. But I had to keep talking. This, here, was one thing I could still set right.

_I don't hate you. I'm kind of mad at you, but you're a good guy, Arnie. And it's not like you wanted to get me killed._

Anrie cheered a little bit. _You're just saying that to make me feel better._

_ Well, yes, but that doesn't mean it's not true. You just won't admit it._

_ Then I guess we're pretty much alike. _

_ How do you mean?_

_ You keep obsessing over that battle – _

_ Was it really only two days ago?_

_ That doesn't matter. Let it go already. You were braver back there than most people I've met._

_ If you hadn't been there, I would have run away. Or did you already forget I was begging for my life and crying?_

_ No. But you also stopped. You stopped screaming and asked what to do and you calmed down in spite of being scared shitless. Just, the whole thing was over before you could do anything brave, so you don't believe me._

_ No, I don't._

_ Well, fine then. I'll think you're brave and you'll think I'm good and in a few days it won't matter either way, will it?_

And with that last bitter jab, Arnie retreated from me and refused to hear any of my apologies. Even at the edge of death, we were the same. Stubbornly hanging onto our faults. Living and thinking and feeling. Nothing was normal, but few things had changed.

------------

On the third day, the pain started. It started as just a vague longing that pulled at me from deep inside. From nowhere and everywhere at once. Longing grew into desire, desire to need, and that to a desperation that left my addled mind reeling. Nothing hurt, but everything ached. Arnie refused to cry out. He sat silently enduring the torture.

I felt Arnie's pain. I felt it because his mind was connected to mine, but at the same time I knew he was shielding me. What I was feeling was nothing compared to Arnie's plight. I thought, for a moment, that I might comfort him, but how to comfort a dying man? What do you say to someone who knows, without a doubt, that he will live though pain beyond words, only to die at the end of it?

The ache stopped aching. It turned to fire. Every part of me burned. Still, Arnie didn't cry out. He didn't scream or beg. He sat, staring at the world.

_What are you doing?_

We were both suffering from my starvation as well. Dehydration was taking its toll on me. I was too weak to think, to fight. So while I knew that my question made no real sense, I also didn't really care.

_I'm sitting._

_ You're strong._

_ I can't let them see me weak. I won't give them the pleasure. Dirty bastards._

Simple sentences. We were reduced to simple sentences and simple thoughts. Pain. Revenge. Life. Death. Things that philosophers have spent centuries thinking on, but which are really quite simple in the end. Pain hurts. What else do you need to know? Revenge is defiance. Defiance against death. Death is the end of life. Everything becomes simple when you're about to die. Why can't living people see that? Why can't living people just see what is and be happy with that?

_Yeah,_ I whispered._ Dirty bastards. You show them._

The hours passed. The burning turned to ripping. My body was being torn apart by the need for sustenance. But it wasn't my body. The pain was in my mind, which was connected to Arnie. But what does that matter? Who cares that my body was really sound when I still felt such pain?

That was when the division between Arnie and Constance began to crumble. I saw his thoughts, which were as weak and feeble as my own. I saw his memories, which I didn't want, but which poured into my mind anyways. Memories of an insane Gedd and a bitter banker. Of a child Hork-Bajar and years in a Pool Ship. Memories of watching movies with an intriguing host. Memories of me.

_I don't hate you._

_ I know._

_ I love you._

_ I know._

And he did know. And I knew. And for a few precious minutes, everything was as clear as it could be. Love was not something that was limited to romance or families or genders. Love went beyond all that. Love bonded across hate and bitterness. Love made two people, for we were both people, want to protect each other. To make each other happy. To do anything, even die, for the other person. It wasn't sullied by trivial things. By romance and friendship and all those things that we tack on to make it more comprehendible. It was simply caring more for someone else than you do for your own life. I loved Samantha. I loved my parents. I loved Amanda. And I loved Arnie.

And then, everything fell apart. The needing, the burning, the tearing, it was all gone. Eclipsed by a pain that went beyond my power to describe. For me, it lasted about 2 seconds.

The sudden absence of pain was painful in of itself. The shock rocked my mind, leaving it completely blank. Even after that, my dehydrated brain took a few extra minutes to figure out what was going on.

'_I could control you so completely that you'd never feel a thing, even pain…'_

_Stop! Stop it, Arnie! You can't do that!_

Arnie couldn't hear me. He was lost in his own mind. In the pain. I couldn't feel a damn thing. Not the slightest hint of my body. My mind was trapped in quicksand. Stuffed with cotton. So fried it would hardly work, but nothing mattered. Arnie was in pain and I had to help him. Nothing else in the world mattered.

I used to think that those stories where the hero found all his strength in a single moment of greatest adversity were a load of bull. Strength doesn't come like that. It has to be built. It has to come, bit by bit, encouraged and cherished and made to grow. When the world is on the line, people don't change. They can only work with what they've got.

I was right, but when the world is on the line, nothing can stop you. My world was being taken from me and no boundaries hemmed me in. No obstacles stood in my way. No fears. No doubts. I found the strength I'd been unconsciously hoarding and ignoring. Adversity doesn't create strength. Adversity finds it. Sets it free.

Pain tore through me. I felt every bit of it. I couldn't take it from Arnie, as he had from me, but I took back my body. I took the pain that was mine and I kept it. I didn't scream. I was beyond screaming. I didn't cry. I didn't have the strength for tears. My mouth opened in a silent plea for death. My eyes stared at nothing. My ears heard only the silent sound of my own pain.

And then, I was tearing. Being ripped into a thousand pieces, but here was pain I could understand. A lesser pain. A human pain. The tearing became burning and I screamed. Only then did I feel the hands wrapped around my arms. Hairy hands. Hands that were way too big. Gorilla hands.

The pool had been attacked. The Andalies had broken into my cage and dragged me out just as the dying Arnie had used the last of whatever he had to crawl out and onto my lap.

The gorilla tugged me to my feet. I wondered vaguely if he remembered throwing me into a sand dune only three days before.

Only three days?

Arnie fell to the floor and I stopped and looked to him. He looked like he was about to melt.

"Please," I whispered, my voice rough and dry.

The gorilla raised a foot as if to stomp on the dying Yeerk, but I screeched for him to stop, tears spilling over, and darted in, kicking Arnie into the pool which was only a few feet away, praying that I hadn't killed him.

And then, I was done. My legs were shaking too badly to hold me. I couldn't even find the power to speak. I was utterly spent and had no immediate reason to fight for anything. The gorilla supported me with one hand; more carrying me than anything else. The host cages had been broken into and people were streaming out though the exits, on to freedom.

I was passed along from one pair of helping hands to another, caught up in the mad rush for the street. I didn't really have any control over where I was going, just followed along with the crowd.

Outside, everything changed. People split off, running in every direction, but it made no difference. I saw the change as soon as I reached the open air. San Francisco was different. Only a few people responded to the hysterical screams, and they were quickly distracted and rounded up by Controllers. The city was more taken than free and I didn't care. I was too tired to care. I wanted to run from the doomed city, but I couldn't. I could only stumble into a nearby alley and fall over behind a dumpster, too utterly spent to realize everything that had just happened.

------------

For the next week, a homeless lady took care of me. She found me and sat with me while the Yeerks cleared the area and somehow, she must have kept them from getting me. A few hours after my collapse, she forced me to wake up and drink some water. I was still too dazed and delirious to really question her.

It went like that for the next two days. She would wake me up just long enough to make me eat and drink, and the rest of the time I slept. By then, I was strong enough to sit up and talk to her. She told me that the pool had been attacked, that most of the freed hosts had been recaptured and that the city was being openly attacked and systematically enslaved.

I went back to sleep.

By the next day, I was able to function almost normally. The woman, she called herself Nadia, made me stay in her 'home.' It was a rather comfortable corner of an alley, with aluminum siding for a roof and a shopping cart in the 'front yard.' She made a bed of coats and made me stay still while she continued to bring my mysteriously procured food and drinks.

I was glad for the chance to rest some more. Being free took some getting used to. So did dealing with the fact that my life had been completely rearranged. Again.

I kept thinking things, expecting Arnie to respond. I would forget to move my limbs or my eyes. Often Nadia would talk to me, and I couldn't look at her because I'd forgotten how to move. Or I'd be walking around the alley and stop suddenly, at a loss for what to do with my body. I was fine for a few hours at a time, then the freedom made me nervous, apprehensive, and, for some strange reason, guilty.

But that was easy enough to overcome. The physical aspects. The mental ones. My freedom was restored and for a while it meant nothing to me. Arnie was lost to me. Dead or not, did it really matter? My parents were gone, as was my sister. I couldn't even go home to the puppets they had become. For a while, my loss gnawed at me, resting somewhere in my belly and silently, painlessly, chewing an every widening hole in me until I wanted to collapse. What was left to live for?

Life.

After seeing everything so simply and clearly during my torture, I still retained that sense of clarity. After finding and using my strength, I kept it. It wasn't as strong. The clarity wasn't as clear. But it was still there.

I was alive and that was worth living for.

I was free and that was worth fighting for.

I was loved and I loved and that was worth dying for.

Nothing else mattered.

So I ignored the pain of loss and went on with my life as best I could. I couldn't banish my feelings, and would never again want to, but I also knew I had to work around them. In spite of them. I knew I had to get out, and together, Nadia and I worked out a plan.

------------

Nadia wasn't human. I figured that out fairly soon after I'd gotten over my short bout of depression. We were sitting the open 'house,' eating stolen Lunchables, when a man wandered into the alley. He wasn't homeless, for he was well dressed. And he didn't really wander; he was looking for something.

I stared at him with a mouth full of crackers and my throat too dry to swallow. Panic flooded me, but I didn't let it rule me. Nadia placed a hand on my shoulder, a silent command for me to stay put. After a few moments, the man left.

"What was he looking for?" I asked when I was able.

Nadia shrugged and made a ridiculously large cracker sandwich. "People, I guess."

"So why didn't he get us?"

"He didn't see us."

I stared at her while she took the sandwich apart and rebuilt it in more edible sizes.

"You're not human, are you?"

"No."

"Will you tell me what you are?"

"No."

And that was the end of that. Nadia never told me what she was, and I never asked again. All I knew was than when I was with her, no one saw me.

------------

At the end of the week Nadia decided I was strong enough to travel. She produced a pack from the mess of her 'house' and filled it with food and clean socks. I don't know why she gave me socks and didn't bother to ask. I would have preferred underwear. She snuck me out of the city, which wasn't really hard, and accompanied me a few miles down the highway. After the suburbs thinned out a bit, she gave me a map and a quite a bit of money. The plan was to walk, hitchhike, and bus to my grandparent's house upstate.

"Take care," Nadia said, giving me a quick hug. "And remember to act inconspicuous. People can see you now. In fact, try not to be seen until you're a bit farther from the city."

"I know, I know." I smiled and hugged her back, refraining from telling her she sounded life my mom. The thought would have been too painful for me and too awkward for her. So I took the advice in good stride, picked up my pack, and walked away, never once looking back.

------------

That was my war. I left, and I left the war behind. After three days, I reached my grandparents house and they welcomed me with open arms and tears. We lived in peace and fear, watching the news and making a normal life. Five weeks and three days later, the Animorphs landed in the Mall and the war was over for everyone.

But it was never really over. It couldn't be over. I relived my one battle, my fears, my failures and my triumphs, again and again. In my dreams. In my waking hours. Not constantly, but for the rest of my life. I'd known pain and loss and fear greater than most people would ever need to. Felt it and overcome it.

The only thing I couldn't overcome was how I'd failed Arnie. He was gone. Most likely dead. I'd thrown him back into the pool, but if the kick didn't kill him, surly his fellow Yeerks had. I reunited with my family, my friends, hell I even made peace with Brian, but Arnie was lost. I'd given absolutely everything I had, but it wasn't enough to save him. My best would never be enough to fix this one failure.

But never again would I fail at protecting my loved ones. Never again would I run and hide. I loved and I hated and I cried and I laughed.

But most importantly, I lived.

The End

A.N. Don't worry, you still get an epilogue to look forward to, but this is, officially, the end. Thank you to every one who reviewed and supported me. Especially my sister, who inspired one of my characters, and my beta reader, who keeps pointing out my mistakes. Ah well, I love 'im anyways.


	10. Epilogue

Fear

Epilogue

Disclaimer: I don't own Animorphs. Period. So don't sue.

Life after the war went on. My family reunited at my grandparent's house in a tearful scene just a week after the war's end. Mom cried. Dad cried. Hell, even Grandpa cried. Shortly after that, Mom, Dad, and I went back to San Francisco to rebuild our home and our way of life. Samantha couldn't quite handle returning yet, so she stayed.

We went back. We fixed the house. I re-started my senior year the next fall. Mom went back to work. Dad went back to teaching. We kept living. I'd like to say that everything had changed, that life simply wasn't the same, but it was. Signs of the war were everywhere, most notably in the new alien technology. Not to mention entirely new branch of discrimination: human nothlits. Society changed. My friends changed. I changed. But that was it. We changed and then we pressed on and we dealt with it.

After graduation I did the only thing that made any sense to me. I joined the Army. After loosing my freedom so completely, I was never going to let anyone threaten it ever again. I was part of the first female infantry platoon. We adopted the grizzly as our mascot, in honor of Rachel. I still had trouble associating her with my beautiful classmate.

And so life went. Mom and Dad never divorced, even though they continued to give each other merry hell. Samantha returned to live with them just before she started middle school. We were just a normal family. A normal family with a horrifying history and occasional nightmares.

Amanda stayed an important part of my life. She continued her work as a rape victim councilor, something I'd never known about her during the war. She wrote me long, extensive letters while I was deployed and tried to solve all the problems in my platoon. She usually didn't, but we all loved her.

Brian grew up a bit. We met once after the war and went out for coffee. He was more mature, more thoughtful, and considering a career in piloting. I forgave him silently, wished him well, and never saw him again.

Jenni stayed my best friend, even though we had a rough period right after the war. Jenni took up all her old activities, throwing herself into all her clubs and projects with mad energy. I thought she might be trying to avoid thoughts of the war, but I didn't stop her. It seemed harmless enough, and after a few years she calmed down. She settled into college life, then into a home with a husband and infant twins and a job designing web pages for activist groups. She wrote to me while I was overseas, and even when I was off planet with the Second War. Jenni became almost as close to me as my sister and was my maid-of-honor when I married.

Because I did end up getting married.

------------

Eight years after the end of the First War, six years after the Disappearance, two years after the end of the Second War, and the day after my 25th birthday, I sat a noisy bar with my coworkers as they toasted to my health. We were celebrating both my birthday and the downfall of a much hated sergeant in one shot glass filled evening.

"Hey, Browning," Stevens started, poking my unprotected side. "So what's up with you? You gonna stay single forever?"

"Oh shut it," I replied, pushing her away from me. "Just cause I'm not hanging all over a new guy every week like you doesn't mean I've given up."

Stevens gave me a mock-indignant look. "Don't look down on me just because I've decided to enjoy my life!"

Port threw a napkin at her and laughed at us from across the table. "Stevens, if last night was any indication, you're having just a bit too much fun."

"Hey, jealous exes are a downside I'm willing to deal with."

Smit, sitting on the other side of me, snorted and muttered, "Especially when you're still letting him do you."

I let them fight for a few minute before breaking them up.

"Hey, come on you guys. It's my birthday, don't get me in trouble."

We laughed and joked and drank and after about an hour Stevens poked me again.

"What!"

"That guy over there's been staring at you for the past hour."

I followed the direction of her gaze and saw a young man glance back down at the table he was sharing with a friend. He was tall, slim but still obviously fit, with strong features and bright red hair. All things that made my knees go weak.

"Yum," I managed to whisper.

Stevens laughed and leaned in conspiratorially. "So go get him."

It was my birthday and I didn't have a good reason not to. The redhead stood and headed toward the bar, so I did the same.

"Hi," I said after he'd ordered his drink.

He smiled at me. He had a gorgeous smile and hazel eyes. "Hello." And an accent. There was no way this guy could be real.

We talked for a few minutes, going through the standard flirting ritual, when I decided I definitely liked this guy. I held out my hand and introduced myself.

"I'm Connie."

He took my hand firmly, almost as he was afraid I'd change my mind.

"My name's Arnashik 6324."

I stood completely still for a few seconds, still holding his hand. Then, thoughts of the war came flooding into my mind. The fear and the hatred and the sense of failure that I'd been dealing with for all those years slammed into me. I hated him. I loved him. I had no idea what to feel. For the first time since before the war, I lost control of my emotions and did what I'd been wanting to do for eight years.

I punched him.

------------

A few hours later in the hospital, Arnie and I talked. He'd managed to fall backward into a table and get a concussion, so I rode with him to the hospital and waited for a good time to talk.

"Feel better?" he asked as we walked though the lobby.

"A bit," I admitted. "What are you doing here?"

"What do you mean? I live here."

"Oh," I whispered, looking down at the ground. I'd half hoped he would say he was looking for me.

"I did try to find you once, but you were off flying about space somewhere and..." He trailed off a bit, staring out at the parking lot. "I wasn't sure if you would want to see me or not."

We watched as his friend pulled in and came toward us.

"I guess you didn't."

The friend pulled up and Arnie climbed in the passenger seat.

I almost let the door close when a fear I hadn't felt since Jorden stopped me. I lunged for the door and caught it with one hand. "Arnie, wait."

Both nothlits just looked at me.

"I... I'm just... Look, it's not that I didn't want to see you. I did. I do. It's just... I..."

I felt like an idiot. Arnie stopped looking shocked, but his friend's 'wtf' look was getting on my nerves.

"Can we go out for coffee or something? Talk?"

Arnie paused for a long time, watching as I held on to the car door, waiting.

"Sure."

------------

Arnie and I went for coffee. We talked. We fought. And then we forgave each other, though neither ever really apologized. I still loved him and we renewed our friendship, and for a while that was that.

Until about a year later when he kissed me. And I kissed back.

And then a year after that when he proposed to me. And I said yes.

We were the fifth human-nothlit couple and the first with our unique history, but no one really cared and we didn't let the media get word of it. I stayed in the military until the birth of my first of three children, all girls.

Occasionally, I would get flashbacks from the various wars I'd been in. I'd be sitting on my couch, doing something perfectly ordinary, and the fear would hit me. The fear, the doubt, the memories, the death. Everything would come back to overwhelm me until I wondered what I'd done with my life. If all the pain and sacrifice was worth it. If I'd ever really done any good in this world.

When that happened, my husband would smile and hug and tell me to look at our children. Our beautiful girls.

Life is a wonderful thing.

The (Real) End

A.N. For those of you curious as to why I called Ch 9 the end and not this, well, Fear is a story of one host's war. The end of the war is the end of her story, no matter where she is then. And, just like K A Applegate said, war sucks. But, I gave in. I love my brain children too much and though it unfair that I should know what really ended up happening to them, but not anyone else. Plus I didn't want to get tarred and feathered.

I'm considering two sequels to this thing. First, the story of Samantha adjusting after the war, the other of Connie's story during the Second War. (the one at the very end of the series with that species that I can't remember the name of.) How fast I start them will depend on reader responses to this one. Yes, that was a shameless ploy to get more reviews from you. But it's still true; reviews are extremely motivating.

Now for the kudos:

lilyofthevalley (thank you)

Wraithlord42 (not sure how heavy they are. maybe those two controllers are just really strong. )

The Xylia (yeah! my first Arnie fan!)

Tabatha (thanks for the support)

Sinister Shadow

Raevyn M (you have good taste in stories. )

rfg (what's my grade now?)

Liaranne (you're so sweet)

hybridpheonix

Eyes of Forest (don't go into mourning just yet. thanks for all the reviews)

Alouette

traycon3

Sahpira

Allison lightning

Ridea

CucumberPickles (oo! I love long reviews. thank you)

Cutie Cherry

Emma

Senri (it's so warming to hear someone appreciate all the little, specific things I worked so hard on. thank you)

T.B. Stormshot ( I love the drode. and I don't have a pet, but my roommate as turtles. I don't think they did it, tho)

zen

spicy froggy

Ender753

Lady of Romantic Dreams (so when are you going to update, huh? cause I really love your fic)

Thank you, thank you, **thank you**, to everyone who reviewed for me and my story. You guys are absolutely wonderful! sniff


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